Death is No Respecter of Demons Part 1 His Butler: Tailer Made
by Candace Lee
Summary: Young Earl Ciel Phantomhive gets more than he bargained for while trying to help a hunted young girl without her memories find her proper place as her lost past begins to come to light, and Sebastian soon becomes uneasy with her odd behavior. If humans live in fear of demons lying in wait, poised to devour their eternal souls…then what, I wonder, do demons live in fear of?
1. Part 1: His Butler: Tailor Made

_**"Death is No Respecter of Demons"**_

**Part 1:**  
**"His Butler: Tailor Made"**

"Negotiations have been dragging on for hours…" the young Lord mused irritably to himself as his guests bickered over their glasses of Port. "Why must difficult business dealings be encumbered further by unnecessary pettiness and quarreling? See an advantage and take it, simple as that!" He doodled absently in his ledger, looking to all the world as if he were mindfully taking notes. "Trying to walk away from the table with your meal as well as your associate's accomplishes nothing but to keep you all firmly planted in place, moreover in my sight, **here**. How can the lot of you expect to move forward at all in your own endeavors whilst drooling over each other's?" The thought made Ciel's brow furrow. "Hmph! And they say_ I_ am the child!" He leaned forward, his hand clenched tightly around his glass, his lips parted, his tongue readied its sharp and vast repertoire of thinly veiled and insulting witticisms, his index finger raised in a reproachful tone, his lungs filled with venomous air,

"GHOST! _NOOOOOOOO_!"

Caught in mid-breath Lord Phantomhive's authoritative air ended in a startled hiccup as all eyes averted toward the study doors, the direction from which the panicked voice had hailed from. Ciel managed to register a name to which the voice belonged only moments before the doors to the study flew wide open and what appeared to be a monstrous mass of wet fur, paws and soap bubbles bounded through them, chasing _*wait…Is that a cat?!*_, and headed straight toward Ciel's frozen person. Directly behind it followed a young girl, equally wet and soapy, trying desperately to catch the animal and looking positively mortified.

Time seemed to slow to a ridiculously impossible rate as the beast pursued its prey onto the negotiation table, sending monthly reports flying and both gentry and businessmen of more questionable repute scrambling to get out of the way.

Finger still poised in the air and voice quaking with the effort to retain self-control, Lord Phantomhive managed a deadly quite, "Karma…"

"GHOST! HEEL!" the young girl commanded, still in chase. "BAD BOY! BAD, BAD BO…"

Her well shod foot landed in the trail of suds left on the highly polished floor as her legs flew out from under her, in a decidedly unladylike fashion. "WHOAAAAAAAAAAA!"

Ciel shot up, craning over the edge of his desk in time to see Karma disappear beneath the small table in front of him, "KARMA! Bloody hell, woman, can't you contr…"

Ghost, who had slid to a stop atop the table, looked quite pleased with himself at obeying his master's commands. Ciel's eyes widened as Ghost's body crouched and tensed, the dog's obtuse eyes squinting shut in anticipation. Naturally a job well done calls for an equally well deserved shake, does it not?

"oh no…"

A spray of soap bubbles, bath water and drool gracefully arched around the animal as he enjoyed a refreshing toss. His prey had been vanquished, his master had been acquiesced to (as any dog worth his salt should do) and now his coat was nearly dry. Ghost certainly had no doubt that life couldn't be better! All was well in the world and he demonstrated this sentiment with an enthusiastic bout of tail wagging, which presented a whole new wave of unpleasantness for the attending party.

Sudsy water dripping from the ends of his raised finger, nose and hair, Lord Phantomhive's flushed and murderous face seemed to fall into that of resignation, as of one who must have become somewhat accustomed to such insane happenings. Indeed, one could say he rather expertly conformed to his present, bizarre situation.

Calmly, Ciel turned to his left, addressing his head butler. "Sebastian,"

"My Lord?" Sebastian chimed from behind an opened umbrella, snapping it shut. Ciel felt his blood pressure rise as his man's demeanor remained light and altogether too cheerful for his liking.

"He's enjoying this!" Lord Phantomhive seethed to himself. Then he noticed the small black bundle in Sebastian's arms.

"YOU SHIELDED THAT CAT?!"

With calm dignity Sebastian simply answered, "You were in no danger of bodily harm, my young master, and cats are so adverse to water…"

"YOU IDIOT!" Ciel bellowed. "I'VE A GOOD MIND TO…." A pointed glance from Sebastian brought the young master back round to the situation at hand.

"Tissue?" Sebastian offered, a gleeful, menacing glint in his eyes.

Ignoring the taunt, Ciel slowly turned about, refocusing his attention back to his aghast business partners. "Well, the lot of them look about as foul as they smell now, at least." he thought. A certain satisfaction lightened Ciel's mood while watching Lord Woodward ducking frantically to avoid being lashed with Ghost's whip-like tail.

"My apologies, gentlemen!" Lord Phantomhive announced with an air of feigned deference. "I'm afraid this evening has hit a rather disastrous snag. Allow us to continue in the smoking lounge once you all have been properly attended to."

"Sebastian," he began again, having regained his composure. "please see to our distinguished guests. They will need a change of clothing and a place to freshen themselves." *Not to mention a hot Brandy.* he finished to himself with ire. Eyeing the offending animal sitting on the table, he added "And get this wretched cur out of my study!"

"Of course, my Lord." Sebastian cooed. "Right this way, gentlemen, if you please." He smiled to the group as he led them away, soothing ruffled feathers with his charm and poise, as was his way.

From around the hall Mey-Rin, the house maid, reached the study doors. Based upon her abrupt halt and her hands darting to her mouth, Ciel assumed she was conveying shock. Assume is all one really could do when one is incapable of reading another's expression due to the ridiculously oversized spectacles covering half her face.

Mey-Rin ventured a timid assessment, more to herself than those around her. "What's all this, then? Everything's a mess!" Then, with no small amount of elation, "Everything's a right mess and I didn't do it, no I didn't!"

"Mey-Rin," Lord Phantomhive spoke in his characteristically even tone as he straightened himself, minding his impeccable posture. "See to Lady Karma."

And then to Mey-Rin's perplexed question, "Lady Karma, master?" he gestured irritably to the floor, "There."

Ciel flatly continued, "I doubt you'll find anything hurt or broken…*I'm sure her thick skull protected her well enough*…even so, take her to her rooms and examine her properly. Send for the doctor if need be and apprise me of any problems."

"Of course, master!" then gingerly to the table she beckoned "Lady Karma?"

Lovely blue eyes peeked back hesitantly at Mey-Rin from the shadows.

"Lady Karma, if you'll just come with me, please." Mey-Rin coaxed, offering her hand to the Lady. "We'll get you all fixed up, yes we will."

A small, bare hand appeared from beneath the table and took Mey-Rin's, followed directly by its owner.

Ciel glowered at her but softened slightly at the sight of the pathetic creature before him. She didn't say anything, but then Karma rarely had to. She wore her sentiments on her sleeve, and at the moment every inch of her being was apologizing miserably. Tears welled up in her eyes.

"Well go on then." he sighed. "Clean yourself up before you catch your death in those wet cloths. I'll have Sebastian bring you some hot chocolate in a bit."

After a moment of stunned silence Karma threw her arms around Ciel's neck in a bone crunching bear hug. Caught off guard the young lord nearly toppled over, catching himself on the edge of his desk.

"K..AR..MA!" he gasped, trying to breath. "A…I…R!"

She sheepishly released her grasp and beamed at him. Turning she grabbed Mey-Rin's hand and bounded toward the door.

"AHEM!" Ciel crossed his arms. "Aren't you forgetting something?" At her blank face he prodded further, "Something large and rather smelly, perhaps?" Without missing a beat Karma spun around, latched onto Ghost's collar and drug the dog along with a startled Mey-Rin out the doors and down the hall.

"Freak." he muttered.

Karma was a pretty little thing, Ciel had noted. Big sky blue eyes and dark auburn hair complemented her fair, flawless complexion perfectly while her slight build belied the uncommonly brutish strength she seemed to possess. She was older than Ciel by only a year, making her just barely fourteen, yet far more socially awkward and inexperienced than most girls her age by that time in life. Sebastian had even commented privately to him that "upon observation the young Lady seems to possess the beauty of a swan while all the grace and eloquence of a one legged penguin. How unfortunate."

That is, assuming she was a Lady at all. Terrified, hunted and half-starved she had been found by the duo in one of London's seediest back alleys. It seems nobody really knew anything at all about her. Not even Karma. The poor thing appeared to be suffering from some kind of amnesia, so she was absolutely no help in determining her own identity. All that _was_ known for certain was that she claimed to have awoken in a cage lined with straw in some cottage cellar in the country with no idea of who or where she was. The small, weathered prison she was being kept in had rusted a bit, and the hinges had been fragile enough to eventually give way with enough kicking. And then there was the dog. An albino Great Dane she had found in that same basement, also in a cage. The dog seemed to have a great affinity for the girl and acted as her guardian. Perhaps it was her dog from the life she couldn't remember. It would certainly help to explain how a typically noble breed would find its way to a cage in the cellar of a country cottage.

There was a curious combination of indications of nobility as well as traits of a common street urchin that left the ultimate determination of her fate up in the air for the moment. Her tattered, nearly unrecognizable, clothing was of expensive cloth and well made. Her hands and feet were free of callouses, suggesting a life of leisure rather than one of hard work and daily toil. She spoke with a certain genteelness and expressed unconscious but learned mannerisms that are typically seen in the upper classes of London society. In the way she held her tea cup or in the manner of her gestures on the rare occasions in which she conversed with others, for example. She also seemed well educated, reading and writing with ease, and took to the Phantomhive Piano-Forte with great proficiency.

On the other hand, her diminutive, shy nature seemed to point to having been raised in a disciplinarian household, barely speaking unless spoken to…and then only enough to answer. Children from affluence tend to be rather willful and outspoken, having been raised in privilege and with a certain idea of entitlement. She did, however, hum quite frequently to herself and always the same, haunting tune. Doing so seemed to calm her. Her only adornment was a rather worn, obviously hand-made pendant tied to a bit of old string. Of course, any true jewelry could (and most certainly would) have been removed by her captors, but then why wear this bit of rubbish? Her shoes were missing entirely.

The decision to take her back to the Phantomhive manor rather than dropping her off at the nearest half-way house came only after her pursuers caught up with them along the way. At that point it became rather plain that she was not safe among the general populace. She was obviously not a victim of chance but rather a victim of certain intent. Someone wanted her. But why? Should she turn out to be nobility after all, neglecting to properly care for and protect her would be disgraceful and upholding the Phantomhive image was of paramount importance to the young Earl.

It was during the ensuing scuffle with her would-be kidnappers that her unusual strength and fighting prowess became apparent. After Sebastian had easily dispatched the first two assailants, the shrinking violet became a raging tiger lily in a flurry of well landed punches and kicks, shocking her two new acquaintances into silence. Even Sebastian stopped in mid-attack. Watching her could have been almost beautiful if it hadn't seemed so incredibly at odds with perceived reality. She reacted with the instincts of a lioness, ducking and dodging, jabbing and kicking. No common item lying about the ally was overlooked as an opportunistic weapon. Posts, bricks and even chains became deadly when utilized correctly.

Not to be outdone, the dog (who, at that time, was only called "dog" as he had no official name) managed to get in his own blows, at one point attaching himself firmly to the arse of one of the last, fleeing ruffians.

"Well, that was not at all ladylike." Ciel had remarked flatly.

Karma giggled and curtseyed at the two of them, then turned and praised "dog" for being such a good boy.

Sebastian, bemused and impressed, leaned in close to Ciel and whispered "Would you have been more satisfied had she sat down and wailed helplessly like a proper English Lady, My Lord?"

"Shut up." Ciel had mumbled crossly as he stalked away.

That was nearly three weeks ago, Lord Phantomhive sighed. "And now here we all are, plus one more for good measure, I suppose."

"Two, if you count the dog."

The young lord was roused from his thoughts by his butler's self-satisfied voice as he swept back into the study.

"Well, I hope it doesn't put them out too horribly having to take this season's bath a few days early. I dare say we'll all be the better for it, anyway." Glancing around he added, "By the by, where is the 'wretched cur' I'm to remove, anyway?"

"Karma saw to him." Ciel replied absently, staring out the window without really seeing anything. "When, exactly, is Lady Elizabeth supposed to arrive, again?"

Sebastian smirked as he busied himself with retrieving and sorting the scattered paperwork. "Tomorrow, mid-day, My Lord. Along with the temporary 'tutor' for our young guest."

"And still no word from the Yard on any missing young women? Nothing at all?"

"Nothing that fits our lady's description, no, My Lord."

"I suppose we should start considering alternative options."

"My Lord?"

Ciel turned and glared at the butler, who was giving him his best insipidly blank expression.

"Well, she bloody well can't stay here, now can she!"

"Of course not, My Lord." Sebastian agreed condescendingly, blotting the papers dry with a cloth.

His attention once again on nothing in particular out the window, Ciel bemoaned his plight. "Between your three muppets, my daft fiancé, my soul sucking butler, and now our mysterious amnesiatic ninja with her damned barking pony I'll never know another moment's peace."

"Indeed, Sir. It's all very regrettable." Sebastian simpered.

"Don't you have guests you should be attending to?" Lord Phantomhive hissed.

"Of course, My Lord. We should be ready to reconvene in twenty minutes."

Suspicious, Ciel watched Sebastian blot the last paper and prepare to take his leave. "You managed to find clothes for _all_ of them? I highly doubt any of my own would have been suitable for even one of them, much less _all_ of them."

"Indeed not, Young Master. Which is precisely why I had to make them new suits of clothes myself."

Ciel gawked in disbelief. "Make? New Clothes? _All_ of them?"

"Yes, of course, My Lord." The butler answered simply, blinking as if he were surprised at Ciel's reaction. "Their own suits reeked of wet dog. Those clothes need to soak in a 1:1 vinegar rinse for at least half an hour, then be hung out to dry in a sunny spot for the better part of a day. Goodness, I certainly had no time for all that!"

With that Sebastian turned on his heel, documents in hand, and gracefully floated across the room to the entrance. Looking back into the room at his frustrated master with impish eyes, he bowed and began closing the double doors.

"After all, if I can't throw together a few fine suits from scratch in less than an hour for my master's business guests…well, then what kind of butler would I be?" His wicked smile disappeared behind the study doors as they quietly clicked shut.

"Hmph!" Lord Phantomhive scowled, annoyed at having been out played this round. "Damn demon."

03/13/2015

Candace Lee Parks


	2. Part 2: His Butler: Suspicious

_*That smell.* _She pulled her thick blanket tighter around her. _*So familiar...like the heady scent of your mother's breath as she whispers softly to you.* _First one eye slowly opened, filling with the last honeyed rays of dawn. _*At least, that is how I would imagine a mother's love.*_ Then the other. Karma just laid there for a moment, enjoying the soft morning breeze caressing her lightly dewed skin and taking in the aromas of a newly reborn earth. _*So sweet...so right.*_ She smiled. Here, the terror of the past few months seemed to fade away, as if simply waking from some ugly nightmare. She could almost believe none of it really happened. She lightly touched the pendant resting against her chest. Almost.

"Enough of that!" she admonished herself firmly, jumping up to greet the day.

Karma stood as tall as she could manage and began the morning with a refreshing stretch. Looking out over the Phantomhive grounds she began to make a mental to-do list.

First she should get thoroughly cleaned up and dressed. The master of the house had seen to it her wardrobe was sufficiently stocked with whatever fashionable ladies attire the current trends dictated was appropriate, and Karma was never one to show discontent toward any act of kindness...no matter how sorely she was tempted at times. She was therefore in the habit now of waking early, as she had no small difficulty trying to make heads or tails of these ridiculously frilly frocks. There was no handmaid here to properly layer her clothing or fasten all the tiny hooks and buttons for her and she was far more accustomed to putting on trousers than dresses. She wrinkled her nose at the task awaiting her inside.

She gathered up her dew moistened bed spread and balanced carefully on a roof ridge that ran right next to her bedroom window. With the practiced ease of a common house cat she made her way to that window and let herself quietly back into her room. The small mahogany table clock on her chest-of-drawers declared in quite elegance that the time was now seven-twenty A.M., give or take, Karma estimated.

"Mey-Rin will be around for the linens shortly" she declared softly to no one at all.

With one fluid motion she threw the bedspread across the bed, centering it as it billowed up and smoothing it out as it settled back down neatly in place. But it was wet. Quite damp through and through, to be more accurate.

"Ah well..." she sighed, stepping back to scrutinize her handiwork. "It isn't as if they were going to be dry much longer, anyway." she cheerfully reasoned. And off to the bath she went. The thought occurred to her while lathering her hair that it was entirely possible misconceptions would be formed about the bedspread. She blinked. "Oy. I hope they don't think I piss myself." Then, shaking the thought off Karma laughed and slid beneath the luke-warm water.

* * *

*Knock* *Knock*

"My Lady? I'm here for your washing, yes I am."

The door was unlocked. "I'm coming in, My Lady."

Mey-Rin had heard the young lady humming to herself as she bathed and smiled as she went about picking up her laundry and linens. She had to admit she found it rather pleasant to have another girl in residence. She loved the boys dearly, especially Young Master (and reserving a more intimate place in her heart for Mr. Sebastian). He had been so good to her, giving her a place to belong and a family to care about. Before Young Master took her in she hadn't had the faintest idea what it could be like to belong anywhere! Now that she knows, she truly couldn't imagine living anywhere else or with any other family.

"Lady Karma will fit right in." she asserted in a whisper. "Even if we never do find her mum and dad, she'll learn to love this place too, yes she will!" Turning from gathering the curtains to the bed she reached across the bedspread. "I'll be the very best big sister she could ever want, yes I wi..." Picking up the bedspread she scrutinized it with a frown. "What's this about then?" She raised it to her nose. No...no obvious smell. Well, that's a good thing but then _*What...?*_ Puzzled, she stole a peek through the cracked door to the lavatory and saw Karma standing as she prepared to get out of the tub. Blushing crimson, Mey-Rin snapped her head around and shuffled hurriedly out the bedroom door, damp bedspread in hand and, for the moment, completely forgotten.

* * *

*Click* *Click* *Click* *Click*

Sebastian whisked down the west wing hallway keeping perfect pace. Quickly enough to maximize walking time but not so quickly to appear harried and ungainly.

Glancing at his pocket watch Sebastian raised an eyebrow, his lips turning down ever so slightly in irritation. Seven-thirty-two A.M. _*Honestly, must I play the handmaiden in this household as well if I'm to keep schedule?* _he fumed.

*CRASH!*

Turning right at the end of the hall he ran directly into a flustered Mey-Rin and her laundry cart.

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Mey-Rin," Sebastian chided, taking just a moment to appreciate his private witticism. "There you are! How many times must I tell you not to leave your cart in the middle of the hallway? Store it to the right side of the room you are working in and against the wall. Really, it _is_ a very simple thing to remember..." Noticing Mey-Rin's flushed cheeks as she scrambled to get out of his way, Sebastian's face fell into a flat look of impending annoyance. "What did you do?"

Mey-Rin shook her head violently. "I swear, Mister Sebastian, I didn't do nuffin'! I'm just cleanin' the linens, yes I am!" Then holding up the proof, "See? I'm only doin' my job, I am!"

Sebastian's brow furrowed as he examined the bedspread being held under his nose. "Mey-Rin, is this the old bedding or the new?"

"The old, Sir. The new is already on the bed, it is."

Well, that eliminated its dampness being due to giving it inadequate time to dry and his preternatural nose didn't pick up the acidic stench of human urine or any other bodily fluids. No...it didn't even smell of wet dog, as would have been his first conclusion. It smelled only of soap flakes, night air and the faint whisper of Karma's natural essence.

_*They all have one*_ his mind began to wander. _*An essence...an aroma that is distinctly unique to them and to nothing or no one else.* _His Young Master's scent was something like sandalwood accented with rare, blue amber. Soft, sweet and a bit creamy but, like blue amber, when wounded it can intensify powerfully, giving off a much spicier note. It was intoxicating, much like what a single spoonful of white diamond Almas caviar would do to a ravenous ally cat. Sebastian's eyes closed languidly to mere slits.

"M...Mr. Sebastian, sir?" Mey-Rin broke his contemplation timidly.

"Yes, of course," Sebastian answered pleasantly. "Very well, Mey-Rin, you may go on about your work. Also, please make sure to take care of Miss. Bishop when she arrives today with Lady Elizabeth. The faster we can get her settled in the easier the Young Master can breathe. I will personally see to Aunt Midford and the Lady Elizabeth. Thank you."

Mey-Rin hesitated a moment. _*He didn't ask what happened to the bedspread at all. Should I remind him, I wonder?* _A sharp sideways glance at her as he passed by was all the encouragement to drop the matter she needed. She began to roll the bundles of washing down the hall to the laundry room when she noticed Sebastian reaching for Karma's door knob.

"Oh! Pardon me, Mr. Sebastian," she blurted, startled. "the Lady's not half dressed yet, she isn't! She's not decent!" Deciding that was warning enough, Mey-Rin grimaced and grabbed her cart as Sebastian eyed her impassively. Around the corner she went just as fast as her small feet could carry her.

"Yes, I'm beginning to suspect as much." he muttered under his breath. A moment later he winced as a distant crash in the general direction in which Mey-Rin had fled echoed back down the hallway. Checking his pocket watch he mused to himself, "Do you know, I think that just might be a record for her."

Sebastian raised his hand to knock and stopped, simply standing motionless in front of the door.

_*Karma's essence is easily recognized as well.* _he reflected. _*I noticed it the first time I met her, there in that dank alley.* _The alley he and Lord Phantomhive had taken that night to cut through London's more populated streets.

The Young Lord did not relish the idea of tramping through the murky, rat infested back roads of London, but Sebastian had managed to convince him it was the better option, as he might easily be recognized coming from the scene of a gruesome murder they had been covertly investigating per Her Majesty's orders. But was that really the reason?

Yes, he could sense her even before he had seen her. Her scent was like a long forgotten memory that is carried on the wind, in the feathers of a bird wings or on the seeds of a dandelion. It was raw, pleasantly musky with sweet, earthy notes. It was almost primal. _*But...when was it that I last caught that aroma?* _he struggled to recall.

Curiosity had gotten the better of him, and he found himself contriving a plausible reason to travel in the direction the scent was coming from. He didn't lie to Young Master. It was, indeed, true that it was best they stayed off of the main thoroughfare, erring on the side of caution if nothing else. But was _that_ particular route necessary?

"No. It wasn't." Sebastian concluded flatly beneath his breath. "I had wanted to take that route. I wanted to find that memory."

And find it he did. Or at least, the scent of it. _*But who is this young girl? And why does she carry with her the shadows of memories I can no longer recall?*_

Sebastian abruptly roused himself from thought and checked his watch once more. Seven-thirty-five. He composed himself and knocked lightly on Karma's door.

"My Lady." It was much better to allow the lady her privacy and relay his message through the door than force her to answer, he reasoned. "My Lady, Lord Phantomhive and I must attend to a bit of urgent business in town today. I apologize, but would you excuse us from breakfast this morning? I've already prepared and set your meal aside, whenever you're ready to come down. Or I can..._*send Mey-Rin?*_ Sebastian thought. Mey-Rin and plates of food. A very ugly picture of how _that_ would unfold played out in his mind so he continued undaunted, "bring it up to My Lady before we leave, if you would prefer."

A moment passed in silence and Sebastian was about to try again when he froze. He hadn't _heard_ so much as _felt_ the small voice.

"No." it said, "I'll come down." She was just on the other side of the door. _*Most likely pressed against it to better ascertain what I'm doing out here.*_ he suspected.

Sebastian had the unsettling urge to press his left hand against his side of the door and did so cautiously. His eyes widened in disbelief. From beneath his spotless white glove his contract seal began to shine faintly through. He snatched his hand away and stepped back as Karma barely cracked the door open and peered shyly up at him.

"Really, I don't mind. Thank you, Mr. Sebastian." She whispered politely. There was no menace in her voice at all. Nothing to suggest she was up to no good or that she was even aware of the effect she had.

Sebastian just stood there woodenly, staring down at the young girl apprehensively looking back at him. The auburn waves that fell around her face looked darker than usual as her hair was wet. No brush had been run through it yet so stray, rogue locks clung here and there to her cheeks and neck. She dropped her large, grey eyes in deference to her elder. _*Not a Lady at all, then.* _Sebastian noted, as a Lady would never show deference to a butler, even if he was her elder.

She was wrapped in a thick robe about three sizes too big for her (one of the robes worn by the Young Master's mother, no doubt) and still damp from bathing. She smelled of soap and warm milk. And essence. _Her_ essence.

"Very good, My Lady." He replied mechanically. "As you wish."

_*And now, Sebastian, we simply walk away and call for the carriage so we can take My Lord on his errands, like a good little butler.* _he reproached himself, willing the spell to be broken.

"We will return directly." he continued, buying time now and trying to hide his agitation. "Again, please forgive our unavoidable absence."

Sebastian bowed stiffly and turning on his heels retreated down the hall. He became lost in thought as he brushed absently past Mey-Rin who was struggling to right the cart she had toppled.

_*What was that?* _he wrestled. _*She's no more than a wayward child, a slip of a girl with no known connections.* _his rational mind reminded him. _*Ah, but Bocchan is no more than a child as well, and I would never make the mistake of underestimating him, now would I?* _his experience reminded him. _*There's more to this one than is readily apparent, Sebastian. The strength, the agility, the lingering essence, and let's not forget the effect she seems to have on your own seal.*_

"Those eyes." He murmured. "Something...familiar in those eyes. Such an unusual grey color, like pewter." _*Damn it! What am I forgetting?*_

Sebastian came to a sudden, violent stop at the top of the grand stairway. _*Grey eyes? Does she not, in fact, have blue eyes?*_

He stood perfectly still, eyes closed and breathing deeply...taking time to regain his characteristically unshakable composure.

"No," he said, his voice filling with a deadly determination. "There _is_ much more here than I can see at present." His eyes slowly opened into to two thin, gleaming red slits. He smiled. "I believe I may not have been adequately attentive to our young guest." he confessed menacingly. "An unforgivable oversight for a Phantomhive servant. I shall just have to do better. After all," he greedily watched Ciel Phantomhive in the foyer below putting on his gloves, impatiently waiting for Sebastian to courier him around.

"I _am_ one hell of a butler."


	3. Part 3: His Butler: Perceptive

Karma's door flew open and the girl dashed out in a yellow flurry of silk and ribbons, unkempt hair flowing in the wake.

_*Second: Breakfast!* _she mentally checked her to-do list.

She would never admit to it, but she was exceedingly relieved that the butler and Master Ciel had left for the morning.

Karma thought the world of Ciel, but he was extra grumpy when he had to be up early. Normally he ate alone in his rooms as did she, but on the two or three occasions they had taken breakfast in the dining room together, it was usually due to "having business to attend to anyway" and he never seemed very pleased about it. Still, Karma sensed a true soul in Ciel, and she liked him despite his outward coldness.

Sebastian, Master Ciel's head butler and ever-present shadow, was another story entirely. It wasn't that she didn't like him, per se. He was always courteous and appropriately attentive to those around him. He seemed to be excessively aware of Ciel's needs and would many times go to great lengths to please his Young Master. There was just something about him that made her flesh crawl. Literally. His presence unnerved her and the closer the proximity, the more uneasy she felt inside.

She bounded down the grand staircase two steps at a time and burst into the dining room. There was a loud, offensive echo from the doors being thrown open in the empty room. She stopped, insignificant and tiny, in front of a long, highly polished walnut dining table that seemed to stretch to eternity. Like the rest of the manor, this room was in no way lacking in opulence and finery.

Karma's boots clicked conspicuously as she began to make her way to the other end of the table, as if trying to tell on her for stepping on the freshly waxed floor. She could see her place setting neatly laid out at her usual assigned seat, just as Sebastian had promised it would be.

She sat down before a silver, domed plate cover which protected her meal from intruders and noticed he had even covered her silverware neatly with a fine napkin folded into a fan. She lifted the dome to reveal grapefruit sprinkled with sugar, strawberries in a bit of cream, a small bowl of yogurt, toast and butter…her favorite breakfast items.

There was a teapot of water being kept warm over a small spirit lamp and her pretty little teacup, which was turned upside down on its plate, sheltered a prefilled tea infuser with a hand-written note in perfectly elegant script: "**4 ½ minutes**". She noted that the tea set was thoughtfully chosen for her, as it was very flowery and feminine. Had the Earl eaten with her, it would no doubt have been a much more ambiguous set.

"He does seem to think of everything." She sighed, dropping a sugar cube into the cup. She glanced around. "I say, 'He's KIND!'" she spoke loudly to the emptiness, listening to count the number of echoes she heard. _*1…2…Just two, then*_

"Two echoes!" she shouted with a laugh, to which the room responded twice in kind. Her giggles ended abruptly as she looked across the table at the conspicuously empty seat in front of her.

Her face fell into a scowl. _*He might have been a tiresome sour puss, but at least he would have more company than that chair.* _she granted. She began to wish she had let Sebastian bring her meal up early, afterall.

Karma's ears perked as voices from bellow drifted up to her…her eyes widened hopefully. _*The servants! Of course!*_

She jumped up and raced through the kitchen to the top of the short set of stairs leading into the servants dining area. _*They'll be eating their breakfast now that the Master has been tended to.* _As if in confirmation she heard Mey-Rin's high-pitched, grating voice just down the stairway.

"…and I don't care if you _do_ 'ave good teeth already, that's no reason to skip your milk at breakfast, no it isn't!" she scolded. "Isn't that right, Mr. Tanaka?"

"Ho Ho Ho"

Karma spun around and dashed to the dining room, skidding to a stop in front of her breakfast. The sound of fine china and flatware clacking together filled the emptiness as she scooped everything but the spirit lamp up into her large, linen placemat and ferried the whole lot back through the kitchen and down the servant's stairs.

"Surprised" is not an adequate word to describe the faces of the four people at the simple table below. Any conversation came to an immediate stop at the sight of the rattling bundle before them, apparently being held up by a yellow skirt and two ladies boots…one of which was trailing it's laces.

"Can I eat with you?" the muffled bundle asked.

Baldroy, the Phantomhive war vet turned cook, Finnian, the young, freakishly strong groundskeeper, Mey-Rin, the high-strung, clumsy house maid, and Tanaka, the former head butler all looked at each other as if to say "You _do_ see what I do, right?"

Baldroy was the first to respond as he watched the awkward parcel begin to slide down slowly as Karma's arms started growing heavy with the weight.

"Whoa!" He jumped up from his seat and caught it, transferring it to an empty spot on the table. "Yeah…sure ya' can." he smiled warmly.

Mey-Rin got up and started sorting the jumbled mess in front of an empty chair. Karma hurried over to help her.

"Here! I'll get it Mey-Rin!" she beamed as she reached for the table.

"Oh, no My Lady! That's my job, it is. Young Master would 'ave my head if he found out I let you…"

"What?" Karma cut her off crossly "lift my own plate or tie my own shoes or something of the like?"

"No offense Lady, but it don't look like you're much good at neither!" Baldroy laughed good-naturedly.

Examining the contents she selected the dumped bowl of strawberries and held it up, wincing as cream and yogurt dripped off of it. Mey-Rin was having a similar experience wiping down the teapot. She somehow managed to look amused and worried all at the same time.

"I guess you're right." Karma sighed. "It's ok, though. I really just wanted to be down here with you all, anyway."

Mey-Rin smiled. "Finnian, set this mess down over there, next to the sink. I'll get another cup and plate."

"You got it!" the boy chipped in, clearing the whole pile in one easy movement.

"Oy! And mind the Master's china!" she added, bringing back a plain plate and mug and setting them in front of Karma.

"Funny, you sain' that, eh Mey!" Baldroy goaded, filling the plate with sweetened oat porridge.

Finnian laughed in agreement as Mey-Rin poured hot tea with milk and honey into the mug. "You just watch yourself, Baldo, I'm not done with you yet, no I'm not!"

"Ho Ho Ho"

Soon the room was filled with the pleasant sounds of breakfast, laughter and good company.

Karma paused, watching them bicker and savoring the simple goodness of Baldroy's warming oats. _*This is nice.* _she reflected, feeling content. _*This feels…right.*_

* * *

Earl Phantomhive's carriage trundled down the country lane as the Earl himself stewed impatiently inside. He turned the folded paper in his hand over and over, stopping to run his fingers over the cold, waxy seal stamped on one side. He had reread the letter from Her Majesty half a dozen times already but it still puzzled him and filled him with uncertainty.

Ciel Phantomhive did not like uncertainty. Not at all.

_*If we would just get there, already, I could have a look for myself!* _he fumed.

Rapping his cane against the ceiling he yelled out the window to his butler and make-shift cabby, "Sebastian! Will we arrive in time for dinner, do you think?"

"I beg My Lord's patience." came Sebastian's even reply. "We are not two miles from town, it will only be a little while longer." And then, "In the interim, perhaps My Lord would care to pass the time quietly reflecting on yesterday's history lesson? One can never underestimate the importance of contemplating one's past."

Ciel scowled. _*Did he just tell me to shut up?* _"And why would I do that?" he retorted. "One doesn't need to study history when one's servant is old enough to _be_ history." Ciel settled back smugly, pleased with his quick wit.

_*KerTHUMP!*_

The carriage jolted violently, the left rear wheel catching a rather deep pothole and springing Ciel forward enough to topple his hat.

"Oh! I _do_ beg your pardon, Master. I failed to miss that one." Sebastian apologized flatly, smirking.

* * *

A uniformed officer fidgeted nervously, pacing to and fro and reminding himself of his specific orders for this assignment. _*Apologize for Commissioner's Randall's absence. Allow them access to the scene. Just observe. Observe __**everything**__. Answer any questions with as little extra information as possible and report back as soon as they've gone. Got it!* _

"How did _I_ manage to get caught in between Ol' Randall and the Queen's Watchdog?" he lamented, shoulders dropping as the carriage rolled to a stop in front of him. _*Right, then. Snap to!*_ he admonished himself harshly. He straightened and arranged his face into a look of authority. At least, he hoped it came across as authority rather than the consternation that was churning in his bowels.

A tall, handsome gentleman in a black waistcoat stepped gracefully down from the box seat, smoothing his spotless white dress shirt and black trousers with a single, practiced swipe. _*He doesn't look like a coachman at all* _the officer noted, as the man opened the door for his single passenger.

A young boy dressed in expensive finery stepped confidently out, ignoring his man entirely and glancing over the immediate area with a mix of disdain and expectancy. The officer raised an eyebrow. _*And __**that**__ certainly doesn't look like a watchdog.*_

The boy caught sight of him and knit his brow, visually measuring him up. The officer found himself straightening his back and squaring his shoulders despite himself. _*Right*_

"You must be the Earl Phantomhive, I presume?" he stepped forward, reaching to shake Ciel's hand.

Unimpressed, Ciel proceeded past him toward the house in question, neatly avoiding the officer's touch by tipping his hat. Sebastian shadowed close behind with a pleasant smile. "Yes." He acknowledged frankly. "And you are…?"

"I'm Chief Inspector John West, My Lord." He blinked, turning around to follow the young _*obnoxious_* Earl.

"Of course you are. And exactly where is Commissioner Randall, then?" he asked, stopping to analyze the building as though it were a painting in a museum. He cocked his head to one side and placed a hand on his hip. The other rested atop a rather gruesome looking cane capped with a skull. Inspector West was beginning to change his opinion regarding the innocent appearance and fragility of the lad. "No, wait…let me guess." Ciel continued, turning to face West with a glint in his eye. "The Commissioner sends his most sincere apologies and regrets that cleaning up the 'mess' I left for him on the Jack the Ripper case prevents him from being here personally. Is that it?"

West realized he was gawking when the boy's lips curled up in a humorless smile. Naturally he wasn't planning on actually _using _the word "mess" but how had he guessed so accurately?

The Earl's demeanor suddenly shifted and took on an almost amicable quality. "Think nothing of it, Chief Inspector." _*I certainly don't* _he thought acidly. "We all have our priorities, don't we?"

"I s…suppose…" West mumbled.

"The truth is I work better unhampered by ostentatious glory hounds slobbering all over my efforts. Don't you?" *grin*

"I…uh…well I…hadn't…" _*What do I say?* _he panicked._ * If I agree I'm berating my superior and if I don't I'm questioning the Queens Watchdog! Bloody hell!*_

While the Inspector was busy strategizing, Sebastian leaned into Ciel.

"Master, I am not the only demon here." He advised quietly.

Ciel shot him a questioning look. Sebastian remained impassive, impressing his seriousness through his unwavering stare.

*Snap!* A look of resignation fell across the Chief Inspector's face.

Ciel and Sebastian returned their attention to the officer, the latter of the two looking decidedly bemused. "Oh dear." he murmured. "I believe you may have broken him. Really, Master," he smiled, "must you play with your toys so harshly?"

"Shall we go in?" West asked flatly.

"Yes, _I_ shall." The Earl remarked pointedly. "I'll ask that you remain outside, Inspector. I don't need an audience. Performances only make me irritable."

_*Well we wouldn't want that, now would we.*_

Turning to his companion he commanded, "Come along, Sebastian." and disappeared inside. The servant didn't hesitate.

_*Odd. Why does he put me in mind of a family dog?*_ West wondered dully.

Sebastian turned back to him in the doorway, giving West the uneasy impression that the man had heard his thoughts.

"Don't worry, Inspector." he called. "We'll endeavor to leave your corpse as unmolested as possible."

West blinked blankly.

A faint voice from inside snapped, "Shut up…idiot."

Chief Inspector John West was alone once again.

"They don't pay me enough for this." he grumbled.


	4. Part 4: His Butler: Informed

_**"Death is No Respecter of Demons"**_

_**Part 4:  
"His Butler: Informed"**_

Synopsis: Sebastian and Ciel examine the mutilated body of a new victim that makes Ciel's heart sink and meet up with a familiar face at the scene who clues them in on some very peculiar specifics. Karma gets to know the Phantomhive household better and meets her new "helper", Miss Bishop_._

"Well, well, well. What have we here?"

Chief Inspector West had been leaning against the wall deep in contemplation and enjoying a hand rolled cigarette when he heard the familiar snarky lilt of a certain woman's voice. He lifted his eyes to meet hers. No warmth passed between them.

She took on a condescending tone. "Did the wittle watchdog nip your fingers, West?" she cooed, leaning toward him.

"What the hell are _you_ doing here?" West growled. "Shouldn't you be doing your job, filin' paperwork and makin' tea for the boss?"

Inspector West had taken a disliking to the Commissioner's new secretary the moment he met her. Her name was Veronika Aristov. At twenty-four years old, she was a Russian immigrant who had come to England only five years earlier. Nothing much was known about her other than she spoke both English and Russian fluently (although her English was inevitably spiked with a heavy Russian accent) and seemed to have an impeccable memory as well as a head for details. Oh…and an amazing body, as any of the men on the force would readily agree.

Veronika was a fine bird, West had to admit it. Except when she opened her mouth. When she spoke she gave herself away. You can have all the outward beauty in the world, but when you're poison on the inside it shows. _*Especially when you open your gob as often as she does* _West frowned.

Pretending to be wounded she straightened and puckered her lips. "Ooooooo…Someone's a wittle cranky today, huh? Mm-hmmm…what's the matter, John, did the grown-ups send you outside so they could work in peace?" Then in a cross voice, "Oh wait. You _are_ the grown up."

"You haven't answered my question."

The blonde tipped her head smugly and crossed her arms. "Well, if you must know I'm here because Commissioner Randall wants me here. Seems he doesn't think you have it in you to shadow the kid, and from the looks of it I'd say he's right."

"Now you just hang on there a minute!" West bristled, "That _kid_ is an Earl** and** the Queen's…"

"Watchdog." Veronika interrupted. "Police of the Criminal Underworld, Aristocrat of Evil, owner of the famed Funtum Company, blah, blah, blah…am I missing anything?"

"Aside from a brain? No, I think that about sums it up."

Veronika sneered, lowering her voice and slowly closing in on him. "You're pathetic, West. Even that boy in there has more balls than you could ever hope to possess." Her face only inches away from his now, he could smell her heavy perfume.

"You reek of coward." she added with an eerie bluntness.

"And you of cheap whore." the Inspector grinned.

"You were sent here to _watch_ him, to make sure we know exactly what, if anything, he finds. How are we supposed to do our job if that brat is allowed to rummage through the evidence, taking what he pleases?"

West smirked. "_Our_ job? I expect what happens here has nothing to do with taking memos and scheduling charity functions, so what do you care, Veronika?"

She simply smiled, "I get paid well to keep our boss informed of anything that could tarnish the Yard's, and by association his, image. I do my job and I do it well. Whether it's brewing the Commissioner a nice cup of tea or following an incompetent boob like you around, I have my instructions and I fulfill them to the letter. Now if you'll excuse me, it seems I have your job to do."

She swept past him with a sideways glance and for a moment the Inspector could have sworn her eyes flashed red.

_*Jesus, I need a vacation.*_ he sighed to himself.

"So, Veronika…" West bellowed loudly. "Exactly how does one go about gaining the boss' confidence these days?" She turned fluidly to him, arms crossed.

He peeked up at the bedroom window of the flat and saw a tall shadow shift, watching them. _*Good. At least they won't be caught off guard. I may think the Earl's a snot nosed brat but I'd rather see him win this one than that sow.*_

"Come on, then. What's your secret?" he prodded.

"No secrets, darling." she oozed. "I'm simply one _hell_ of a secretary." And with that she sauntered into the building.

* * *

"I believe we're about to have company, Young Master." Sebastian noted, slightly lifting the edge of the curtain to see what all the commotion was about.

Ciel stood next to him, a blood stained paper clutched in his hand. "Yes. So it would seem." he agreed. "No matter. We've found all we're going to find here." Looking down at the paper he softly added, "Little as it is." Ciel folded it and tucked it away safely into a small compartment hidden in the skull on his cane.

* * *

***Minutes Earlier***

The scene had been just as the Queen's dispatch had advised. He stared, disbelieving, down at the lifeless woman with a cold dread filling his gut. _*What the devil is going on here?!* _Ciel's head screamed. _*This can't be happening! It's absurd!*_

Sebastian maintained his stony expression, watching the young Earl intently. "Master?" he gently interjected when the boy's face took on a slight sheen, breaking into a cold sweat.

"No, Sebastian! Jack the Ripper is dead!" he asserted angrily. His voice cracked faintly as it became small and distant. "We were there."

The girl lay on the floor, staring blindly at the ceiling. _*God! She couldn't have been more than seventeen!*_ Her pretty straw colored hair was stained an ugly combination of pink and dark red from the pool of blood spread out beneath her. One slender arm draped limply over her open stomach, as if trying to shield her from the indignity of being found in such a vulnerable state. All four walls and even the ceiling had varying amounts of blood splatter, like some vulgar new "modern" art.

Ciel reigned in his composure and swallowed. There was something he needed to do. Something he had to know.

As he bent down next to the girl Sebastian lightly touched his shoulder.

"Allow me, Master." he whispered.

Ciel's face flushed and he turned to Sebastian defensively. "Don't you dare!" he shook enraged. "Don't you dare pity me Sebastian, not you!"

They stood up together and Sebastian looked Ciel firmly in the eyes. "Master, if there is one thing I will never do, it's pity you. You deserve no pity. You were dealt the hand you were dealt and you've played it well. That's as good a life as any human can expect to live."

Ciel relaxed a bit, his eyes falling.

"I merely want to do my duty as your butler and preserve my Master's image. It would be dreadfully incompetent of me to allow you to soil your fine clothing in this." He gestured to the floor. "What kind of butler would I be then, hmm?"

"Very well." Ciel relented.

"Thank you, Sir." Sebastian smiled and bent down to examine the open cavity.

Ciel wrinkled his nose as the moist sound of innards being moved aside filled his ears. He placed a gloved hand over his nose as the body released some trapped gases. "Oh! That's foul!" he gasped.

Sebastian stood up, stripping off his soiled gloves and simply dropping them where he stood. "There we are!" he said with a flourish, obviously satisfied with himself.

"Well?" Ciel's muffled voice demanded after waiting expectantly for a moment and getting no answers.

"Nothing. Her uterus was indeed removed."

"That's not possible!" the Earl insisted as Sebastian calmly pulled a fresh pair of white gloves from a pocket within his tailcoat.

"A copycat killer, perhaps?" Sebastian suggested.

"That would make more sense than the alternative." Ciel's contemplation turned to anger and his eyes narrowed violently, "Grell!" He looked at Sebastian. "He was the second half of Jack the Ripper and he was never brought to justice!"

"Really, My Lord?" Sebastian sounded dubious. "Do you think Grell Sutcliff would have a reason to continue that little charade without his star player?"

"It's true Madam Red was the driving force behind the Ripper, but it was obvious Grell was getting enough pleasure from it for himself…we should have finished him off when we had the chance!" Ciel added, clenching his fists.

"Well," Sebastian conceded. "It certainly wouldn't hurt to explore that avenue."

They heard a distant voice shouting out in the street below, "So, Veronika! Exactly how does one go about gaining the bosses confidence these days?" A pause. Sebastian and his Earl moved to the window. Ciel noticed a small, crumpled paper on the floor and retrieved it. His brow furrowed as he read silently. "It's this address. Somebody must have been meeting her here."

Sebastian could see West glancing in his direction, then returning his attention to the unseen party in the doorway. "Come on, then. What's your secret?" he was saying, obviously buying them time. They could not hear her response.

"I believe we're about to have company, Young Master."

"Yes. So it would seem." he agreed.

* * *

***Present***

Veronika walked purposefully down the upstairs hallway to the door from which she could hear faint voices coming. _*He has his "butler" with him, of course.* _she smiled. _*Well, this ought to be interesting.*_

Entering the small, stuffy apartment she put on her warmest smile.

"Lord Earl Phantomhive!" A dramatic gesture in his direction. "I'm so pleased I finally get to meet you! I've heard so much about you."

"Is that so?" Ciel responded dryly.

"Oh my!" She looked around disdainfully, pulling a delicate handkerchief out of her overcoat and holding it to her nose. "What a mess we have here, yes?"

"I'm afraid you have us at a disadvantage, Madam." Sebastian stated, his eyes narrowing as she met his gaze. "Perhaps you'd be so good as to tell us who _you_ might be."

"Of course, where are my manners?" she chided herself. She stepped deftly around the young girl's body as though it were nothing more than an annoying foot stool blocking her path. Her high heels sent tiny droplets of carnage radiating outward, producing a distinctive footprint on the bloody tile.

"My name is Veronika Aristov. I've been acting as Commissioner Randall's secretary and personal assistant for the past four months." Then jokingly, "Believe me, between the three of us he certainly needed someone to help keep him straight. Why, I don't think that man has filed a single report since he was promoted." Veronika held her finger to her lips as if they were sharing a naughty secret.

"Secretary?" Ciel eyed her. "The Commissioner isn't in the habit of sending his more…_genteel_ personnel around to gruesome murder scenes. Especially considering how wholly unconnected your duties are to the duties and expertise required here."

"I admit he's not the most forward thinking of men," she replied coolly, "but he does know a sharp mind when he sees one and he's ambitious enough to use it when it is to his advantage…regardless of what bits the body attached to it might have." she finished with a certain mischievous satisfaction as she watched Ciel blush uncomfortably.

Sebastian simply stood by silently, refusing to reveal the slightest clue to his thoughts at the moment.

"Come now," Veronika urged pleasantly. "I know you've not had the most amicable relationship with my employer, but there's no reason why _we_ can't be friends." She smiled, holding her hand to her heart in a gesture of sincerity. Her manner of address suddenly irritated the Earl. She sounded as though she were a nursemaid simpering over her charge.

"I am in no need of friends, Madam." Ciel replied, aloof and cold. "I have found that those who would call themselves my friend tend to have a nasty habit of allowing themselves to be tempted into shameful acts of betrayal eventually, when they wish to have any base need or desire met. Naturally the outcome is inevitably the same. They do not think far enough ahead. They lose sight of their next move, I find them out and I destroy them." Ciel held Veronika's scrutinizing gaze, showing no signs of weakness or lack of confidence in his beliefs. "Simple as that."

After a moment Veronika straightened and crossed her arms, allowing her regard to convey a certain admiration to the young lord. _*He is indeed a noble, through and through. I'll grant him that, at least.* _she mused.

"I believe you, Earl Phantomhive." she announced, taking delight in this game. "Very well, then. Since My Lord has no need of fickle friends, would he find a collaborator of more interest? More…suitable, to his particular needs, perhaps?"

Ciel was unprepared for that, but did well maintaining his stony front. "Madam?"

Out of a dark corner from which he had been silently observing, Sebastian's voice cut through the room, clearly laced with disdain. "You would betray your employer, Madam?" His eyes flashed at her, accenting his shadowy figure. "How very distasteful."

"Is it?" she quipped. "It's a 'brave new world', Mr. Michaelis. Or had you not noticed?" Shifting her gaze shrewdly to Ciel, Veronika studied the boy dispassionately, making him feel much like a bug under a magnifying glass. Should she only focus the light too intently on him… "Some of us cling to the old ways, feeling superior to all around us. Patting ourselves on the back for being made of finer cloth than those who are open to new ideas and new opportunities…those we would consider 'deviant'. We spend our time clinging ever more tightly to a singular obsession because it embodies all we know we are slowly loosing." She smiled coyly at Ceil and then resettled her attention on Sebastian. "Some of us; however, learn to change with the times and throw off those tedious mores that keep us forever bound to a fading existence. We learn, we grow, we survive…we conquer." Her eyes grew steely. "We move forward while our obsolete colleagues sink beneath the mire of dead ceremonies and useless ritual."

Sebastian and Veronika seemed locked in some silent battle of the wills. Neither giving way to the other's glare.

"Well, what the bloody hell was _that_ all about?!" Ciel's exasperated voice finally broke the tension. "Or are you both just barking mad?"

Veronica burst into candid laughter. "Our old fashioned friend here found it offensive that I was willing to spread my loyalties around. I was simply reminding him that not everyone is content to burn out like an old candle. You certainly wouldn't be, would you, My Lord? I have a feeling you would do whatever it took to stay in the game. I believe that _you_, at least, know how to play to win, don't you?"

"I believe it was your glaring absence of honor and commitment to your work, the lack of simple aesthetics for your craft, that I found repulsive, Madam. I apologize if you found me in anyway unclear on that matter." he countered, smiling pleasantly.

Veronica was not to be put off. "And what of ourselves? What of my commitment to myself? My own dreams? My own desires? Or am I to always reserve the choicest of life's pleasures for mere guests in my world?" Her eyes traveled thoughtfully over Sebastian's figure with self-indulgence.

"Right." Ciel remarked flatly, his eyes dull in annoyed resignation. "Well, I've had enough." He made his way to the door, Sebastian falling in neatly behind him. Veronica smirked. _*Good little dog. That blind loyalty will serve me well enough, soon.* _

Following them into the hallway she wanted to make her goodbyes before coming within earshot of Inspector West.

"I truly enjoyed meeting you, Lord Earl. I sincerely hope you will consider what we discussed. We can never have too many irons in the fire these days, after all." With a final diverted smile at Sebastian she swept ahead of them into the streets.

Seeing the Inspector glowering at her as she passed she added in a low, irritated voice, "Do find a way to be useful at some point today, won't you West?" Hailing a coach she climbed in.

The Inspector ignored her and looked back at the other two leaving in the opposite direction. West wanted to ask them a few questions, but a sharp look from Sebastian warned him off for the moment. _*Well, I think it's safe to say Veronika was her usual charming self.* _Deciding to catch up with them another time, he headed out into the mid-morning air.

* * *

From a nearby church steeple a watchful eye was cast upon the four players below. As the main three exited the house the dark figure crouched down to minimize the possibility of detection by one of them, even though he had chosen this spot carefully due its safe vantage point. He studied each individual with intense interest.

Well, almost each individual. The young Inspector was no more than a temporary nuisance and held no concern for him. He was easily written off.

The boy, however, was a powerful underworld figure and could be a threat indeed if he held any particular interest in the stranger's target, but he did not believe the boy to be overly concerned with her and therefore paid him only a passing interest.

The tall one…now he could be trouble. At this point in the game he's proven to be dedicated to his Master and although his interest has been piqued of late there was no immediate danger. That would certainly change depending on what he is able to uncover, of course. Should that happen the stranger knew he would need to strike and strike fast. _This_ demon was far too close to her to risk being at all lax in his assessments.

His eyes settled heavily on the last of the group as she hailed a coach. _This one_…now this one is different. She was proving herself to be a true threat. She was fully aware of his target's identity as well as her present location. Moreover she was actively positioning herself to be within reach of her.

"_She_ must be eliminated." his cold voice determined aloud.

His eyes narrowed and he tapped one long nail against the ornate cornice, patiently waiting for her to remove herself from the public's eye.

Veronika's coach rolled away, growing smaller as it put distance between the two of them. The figure stood up, his long duster caught the wind and whipped around him violently as two impressive, leathery bat-like wings materialized from his shoulder blades.

_*Now then,*_ he smiled, revealing several sharp teeth. His dark, blue-black hair swirled around his pale face as he shot up into the sky. _*Shall we dance, Madam?*_

* * *

Sebastian held the door to their carriage open as Ciel got in. "Shall we head back, then?" he asked, all good humor lost for the morning.

"Not yet. Wait for her to be well out of sight and then let me out again." Ciel replied coolly.

"Yes, My Lord." He said simply, and climbed onto the box seat.

After a brief wait Veronika's coach lurched down the narrow street.

Sebastian immediately jumped down and opened the door for him as instructed. Ciel hopped out and walked around the side of the house coming to a stop in a partially hidden, inconspicuous spot.

The butler raised an eyebrow as he watched his master look impatiently around.

"Well then?" he demanded to a rather over-grown section of garden. "Did you want to talk or no?"

A familiar cackle greeted them as a tall, lithe man with long grey hair and scars around his face and neck dropped into the yard gracefully. Although his exact expression was hidden by unkempt bangs, one could assume from his laughter and his immediate gleeful, toothy grin that he was well pleased with Ciel.

Snatching his lapel up with both bony hands (one of which seemed perpetually covered by the sleeve of his oversized black robe) and stooping to Ciel's eye level he praised him, somehow managing to make himself sound more insane than complimentary.

"Heh heh, heh, heh, heh! Sharp as always, ain't we, Milord? What gave me away? Tell me! Tell me! Tell me!…"

"Unhand me!" Ciel brushed the clingy Undertaker off with a grimace. _*Psychopathic loon!*_ Ciel stepped back and straightened his overcoat indignantly. "The body, it had been moved." he answered bluntly. "Or more accurately it had been posed. The top of the arm that was placed over her stomach showed signs of livor mortis. It was placed there after it had lain upside down for some time. Most likely off to her side, where she fell."

"That could have been anybody." he sniffed.

Ciel sighed, realizing he was going to have to endure the entire drama if he ever wanted to get to the heart of matters. "Well it wasn't the killer, as they would have left before the blood could settle. I seriously doubt the police would contaminate their own crime scene. The place has been guarded since it was found. Sebastian and I certainly didn't do it. That leaves the only other person who would have been allowed access…the Undertaker."

Sebastian smiled, enjoying the chance to watch his young lord work. He was always quite impressed with Ciel's sharp observational skills and ability to draw logical conclusions.

"Clever boy!" the Undertaker danced in place, adding to the overall impression of being a right nutter. "Milord is as impressive as always."

"Yes, yes, now can we get on with it, please?" Lord Phantomhive pushed. "I _am_ on a bit of a schedule, you know." _*At this rate I'll never get back in time to properly greet the new staff. And I'm hungry, dammit!* _His stomach rumbled as if on cue. He heard Sebastian's pocket watch click shut somewhere behind him and blushed.

"Indeed you are, boy. You don't know just how true that is."

Ciel frowned, not liking the Undertaker's eerily pointed tone. He caught sight of those vivid green eyes peeking out at him from under shaggy bangs and for just a moment his blood ran cold.

"Never mind that!" he snapped, refusing to be shaken. "What do you know, Undertaker?"

The deadly serious mood was broken in an instant as the Undertaker rubbed his hands together excitedly. "And what do you have for me in turn today, Milord?" He began to drool in anticipation.

The young lord could not conceal his exasperation. "Why you…!" He balled his fists. "I played your idiotic little game, didn't I?! You owe me answers!"

"Why, that was just a bit of fun between friends." the Undertaker laughed with delight. "Didn't you enjoy yourself?"

Ciel's eyes popped wide open, aghast. "Enj…ENJOY myself?! "His face flushed. "You call _that_ fun? Have you no shame? That woman is dead, you lunatic! And by all appearances at the hand of an equally dead Jack the Ripper which, by the by, is a bit of an issue for me!"

"Yes, I imagine it would be at that." The Undertaker giggled madly. "What an entertaining conundrum you find yourself in, Milord!"

Ciel's entire body shook as he restrained himself from choking the life out of this mad man.

"Just one, incy wincy itty bitty chuckle?" the undertaker twisted his head around, looking at Ciel upside down and holding his fingers close together in front of him. "Come on! Just one! It's a bargain!"

"What happened to the psychotic mortician that outlived his usefulness?" Ciel snapped sarcastically.

Sebastian swept past his master and approached the Undertaker. "You'll forgive my master." he asked charmingly. "I'm afraid he's had a trying day and it's nearly lunch already. He tends to get a bit fussy when he's not fed regularly, you see."

"You're…not…helping." Ciel growled, glaring a hole into his back.

Sebastian leaned forward and whispered in the Undertaker's ear for a few moments. Ciel's face turned to disgust as the crazy old fool writhed in rapture, making vulgar noises until he finally erupted in euphoric laughter. Sebastian calmly straightened his cuffs.

The butler saw his master's face frozen into a look of revulsion and smiled cheerily. "I'm sorry you had to see that, My Lord, but I'm afraid it couldn't be helped this time. I had no room to send you out of."

Recovering, Ciel held his hand up. "I _really_ don't want to know, Sebastian." He strode over to the delirious man rolling blissfully around in the weed-choked garden and demanded his pay. "Now tell me what you know, Undertaker!"

The Undertaker gasped for air and gazed up at the boy languidly. You already hold the key to this one, young lord." He breathed. "Everything's connected. These murders, the Ripper, your new little friend."

Sebastian perked, his face registering surprise.

"Who? Veronika?" Ciel asked thickly.

"Her too. Everything comes together in the end. It always does."

Sebastian glanced at the Undertaker and found him smiling sinisterly back at him. He propped up on one arm and touched his finger to the side of his nose.

The Undertaker struck with the speed of a snake and pulled Ciel down to him by his cravat. Face to face his eyes peeked through his thick mane once again, a menacing sparkle dancing between them. He lowered his voice to barely a whisper and cast a sideways glance at Sebastian, who was watching them with intense interest. "You take care of that little friend of yours. She may be worth more to you than you could possibly imagine, my boy."

_*Karma* _

The Undertaker's smile widened and he released the young lord. Ciel quickly backed away trying to work out what Karma could possibly have to do with all this.

Sebastian attempted to help him to his feet but Ciel jerked away. _*Why had the Undertaker excluded Sebastian so pointedly?* _With a final glance at the now silent and unusually calm mortician, he headed for the carriage.

"Let's go, Sebastian. We need to head back to the manor. Lady Elizabeth and my aunt will be arriving shortly with Miss Bishop and I want to be there." He ordered, avoiding any discussion.

"Yes, My Lord."


	5. Part 5: His Butler: Under Scrutiny

Veronika's coach ambled clumsily down the rutted lane.

_*Well, this is certainly one of the least traveled roads of the city,*_ she scanned the surrounding area with marked displeasure._*at least, in so far as England's more respectable society is concerned.* _It was just down the way from the crime scene, not more than a quarter of a mile, but the difference between the two locations was striking. Both were located in London's infamous East End and housed the city's poorer, working class.

"Are you certain the address is located here?" she asked the cabby through a small trap boor just behind the box seat.

"Yessum, I know th' place well." he answered, sounding unfathomably proud of that accomplishment. "This 'ere's Dorset Street. It'll spill out into Tenter Street at th' end. Yer place is on th' far-east, a lil' known refugee 'ouse for Jewish men." he explained.  
"Tho' I can't says 'at I like escortin' a lady 'here. Right dangerous neighborhood, that. They say Jack the Ripper 'unted these very streets!"

"Is that so?" Veronica feigned interest, wanting more relevant information.

"Yessum!"

"You say this place is a refugee house?"

"Yessum, at least, 'at's what it were last. It's boarded up now. Use'ta be a lov'ly church back in th' old days." He answered, turning the corner onto Tenter Street.

"A church, was it?" Veronica mused.

"Yessum!"

She sat back contemplating the irony. _*Either this person doesn't know me or they have a twisted sense of humor.* _she laughed to herself. _*I'm rather hoping it's the latter. I could use a good diversion.*_

"'Ere we are, Miss." The driver said. "You sure you want ta be 'ere?" he looked around dubiously.

Exiting the coach and coming around to the front, Veronica handed the driver a bank note. She looked at the crumbling 16th century structure that stood out like a sore thumb amid the shanty houses and derelict shops surrounding it, most of which were also boarded up and abandoned. She experienced an unsettling chill and for a moment was not at all sure she _did_ want to be there.

"Ay, I ain't got change fer this much." he said, shoving the note back at her. "Ain't ya got nuffin' smaller?"

"If you wait here for me, you won't need change. You can keep the whole thing. I won't be long. Deal?" she answered, never looking away from the old church.

"You got it, Lady." he said eagerly, hopping onto the box seat and laying an old pistol across his lap.

"Good." she said. "I'll be right back." Her face hardened and she made her way confidently to the gate in front.

_*Time to meet my secret admirer.*_ she smiled.

* * *

Ciel handed his hat and gloves to Sebastian as they entered the manor.

"I'll go put on some tea and get you a snack, sir." the butler advised, smoothing his master's coat over one arm. "It seems our guests may be running a tad late. I expected them here by now." Sebastian frowned. He despised tardiness. "In any case, it seems luncheon will have to be slightly postponed at present."

"Fine." Ciel stripped off his gloves and handed them to Sebastian indifferently. "It will give me a chance to change out of these travel cloths."

"Very good, Sir." Sebastian bowed as Ciel left for his rooms.

After stopping at the coat closet to return the master's outerwear, Sebastian headed to the kitchen to check on the luncheon he had carefully put together in the wee hours of the morning. Specifically, he wanted to make sure it was all still in order and not molested or, worse, demolished by the three walking disasters employed here. A quick look, the master's tea and a snack _*a simple scone should suffice* _and then he would be free to tend to a few matters of his own. _*calling around for clues to our little Lady's identity, for instance*. _At least until our guests arrived.

He turned the corner to the kitchen and stopped.

"My Lady!" he declared, in surprise.

Karma was at the huge sink, elbow deep in dish water. She had been washing a small bowl when Sebastian startled her, causing her to jerk around and drop it. The delicate dish smashed on the hard floor, sending fine bits of porcelain sparkling across the immediate area. An abashed look met his eyes.

"What on earth are you doing?" Then he noted her appearance. "And what, pray tell, are you wearing?"

Karma smiled sheepishly at him, twisting her unlaced foot around self-consciously. Her pale yellow frock drooped slightly off one shoulder and the waist had a noticeably cockeyed slant, as if a button or two had been missed. _*And obviously no petticoat at all_* he sighed to himself. Her wild hair had been tied back haphazardly in a matching ribbon and it seemed that most of it had since worked itself loose, dangling in limp curls around her face. She made a feeble attempt at smoothing the front of her skirt, which only resulted in leaving two wet streaks across it.

Sebastian touched his fingers to his forehead for a moment. He didn't know whether to laugh, cry or simply devour everyone's souls and be done with the whole ordeal. Karma waited quietly for him to continue wishing with all her heart that she was anywhere but here.

Sebastian peered between his fingers. "Let's just start at the beginning, shall we?"

She nodded, lips quivering, and took a deep breath. "I took my bath and tried to dress myself properly but I couldn't reach the hooks and so I came down for breakfast and found the food you left but the room was so big and empty and I felt really really lonely so I came down here to eat with the others but I spilled all my food along the way but it was ok because Baldo (that's what they call him for a nickname because Baldroy is kinda awkward) anyway, Baldo had made extra porridge and they let me eat breakfast with them and it was lovely so I thought I should help out and clean up my own mess because I didn't want to be a burden to anyone so I washed the soiled placemat first and then I started cleaning the dishes I had dirtied and that's when you walked in and scared the dickens out of me (you really sounded harsh you know) which made me drop the bowl…It broke." She trailed off.

Sebastian just blinked at her.

After a moment Karma added quietly, "I'm really sorry about the bowl." and dropped her eyes, apparently noticing how interesting the floor had suddenly become.

Sebastian hid a smile behind his hand and cleared his throat.

"It's only a bowl, My Lady." he began, his voice soft and reassuring. "But look at you. What if the Marchioness had arrived with your new companion? What would they think?" Sebastian moved closer to her, careful to keep the dimly pulsating back of his left hand concealed. He lifted her chin so that she looked at him. "Please remember that whatever we do reflects directly on Lord Phantomhive. I know you wouldn't want to add to his already substantial list of worries, would you?"

Karma shook her head, wide eyed. "No, of course not!"

"No." he agreed. "I understand the difficulty you must be experiencing, having to make do without a servant."

Karma took on a look of guilt. "Actually," she began, but was quickly cut off by a gloved finger over her lips, causing her eyes to cross. Sebastian's unyielding glare commanded her silence. He reached behind her and turned the stove on. *Foof!* Karma jumped a little as the gas eye lit. He put the kettle on and laid out a silver serving tray.

"All that should change after today." He continued unfazed. Turning, he opened the cupboard and took out two dessert plates, then retrieved two glazed scones from the pantry. "Soon, you will have your help-mate which should be an immense relief to you with regard to the daily trials of simple personal maintenance and moreover you will not feel compelled to spend time in the bowels of the manor for company." He handed Karma one of the plates with a scone and placed the other on the tray.

"Oh, but…" Karma moved to defend her choice of company but was again cut off.

"Young Ladies do not fraternize with house servants. It is improper and if seen by the wrong people can lead to poor regard for their benefactors." Sebastian said pointedly, pouring a glass of milk.

While this was indeed true of society at the time, Sebastian's motives were not entirely for his master's benefit alone. If he were to uncover anything…damning…about the girl, it would be much easier to dispatch her with no personal connections made, especially within the manor.

"Do you understand?" he handed her the milk.

She bit her lip.

"Good. Now take your snack to your rooms and clean yourself up. Pick out something appropriate for company and put it on as best as you can. I will come by after I see to the Young Master and help you button yourself up properly. Even if our guests arrive stay in your rooms until I've had a chance to look you over. Now, go on." Sebastian dismissed her as the kettle came to a boil.

Karma hurried toward the door, milk and scone held close.

"And My Lady," Sebastian called. "Do be sure to put on a petticoat this time."

Karma flushed crimson as she rushed out of the room.

The butler chuckled as he poured the hot water for the tea. He hated to admit it, but he found the girl amusing despite himself.

* * *

Veronika's heels clicked loudly against the stone floor as she followed the center aisle toward what used to be the pulpit. The church had been gutted of any useful furniture long ago, leaving a dismal and hollow shell for a sanctuary. The only source of light and color was the massive stained glass window covering the east wall directly behind the chancel. Preternatural senses on high alert, she scanned the dark corners and doorways cautiously…something was indeed here, but she wasn't sure just what.

"Meeting a mysterious stranger in a ruined church on the East End of London?" She called to the emptiness. "You have my admiration for selecting an adequately creepy atmosphere." She waited for a moment. "You'll find I'm not that easily frightened, however." Her voice echoed through the desolate structure. Irritable for being ignored she called out again, "Hello?"

She continued to the front of the church and climbed the four steps leading up into the chancel and alter. A Bible lie open to Exodus on the altar. A single black rose was tucked into its spine. The pages were completely soaked in blood and illegible…except for two verses,

"6) Thy right hand, O Lord, is become glorious in power: thy right hand, O Lord, hath dashed in pieces the enemy.

7) And in the greatness of thine excellency thou hast overthrown them that rose up against thee: thou sentest forth thy wrath, which consumed them as stubble."

Veronika's lip curled into a smirk. "I see." She picked the rose up and tucked it into her belt. "So I take it we're not here to discuss business partnerships or maybe the possibility of a beautiful friendship." Her eyes narrowed. "Well, you summoned me and here I am. Do you intend to show yourself or are you nothing more than an idle threat wasting my time?"

"I wouldn't dare waste your time, Madam." A low voice seemed to echo around her, coming from everywhere at once. Veronika spun around, looking this way and that, trying to find the source. "You have so little of it left, you see."

*Clack* *Clack* *Clack* the resounding fall of boot heels approached slowly from the entrance. Veronika turned to peer down the long aisle and could see a tall shadow come to a stop just outside the illuminated area of the nave.

"Who are you?" She demanded, a faint nervous edge belying the confidence she had intended to convey.

"Forgive me," the stranger said calmly as he took a step into the light. "I am Phoenix. I have come with a message for you."

The man was tall, maybe 5'8", and wore a heavy oilcloth duster that fell just at his ankles. He was very handsome, with straight, layered blue-black hair that grazed his shoulders and an almost porcelain white complexion. His eyes were striking, the color of aged red wine…not exactly red but then not deep purple either. Were he a human, he would be in his early to mid-twenties. _*But he's not human, is he?*_ Veronika observed.

She snatched the page with the verses out of the Bible and held it up. "Yes, I got it already, thank you" She said sarcastically then tossed it to the floor.

"That?" he tilted his head slightly, watching the feather light page float to the ground. "Oh no. That was not left for you, I'm afraid." He explained. Veronika eyed him suspiciously. "That was left for me."

"I don't unders…" Veronika began hesitantly.

His eyes began to glow with a blue-white heat, flaming tongues rising from them. He pointed to the sky and began closing the gap one slowly measured step after the other. The faint light from the window glanced off his long black nail, reminding her more of a talon that a fingernail.

Finger up, he stopped 50 or 60 feet away from her. "It seems your fate has been decided. That" he gestured, "was nothing more than implied consent."

Veronika's eyes widened as two leather wings shot straight up from his back. Darkness seemed to swirl around him as if he were made of it. _*Nephilim!* _the realization hit hard.

"They couldn't give me direct approval, of course, as I'm currently considered rogue myself." he continued casually. "But still, it's nice to know there will be no one trying to cut into our little waltz. Just as well, really. I intended to kill you anyway, consent or no."

"You…_you're_ protecting her." She struggled to piece the puzzle together. "But…you aren't assigned to her!"

"Let's just say I'm under new management." he smiled.

"Now then." Phoenix tensed slightly. "Shall we?" _*Ladies first*_ his mind mocked sadistically.

Veronika pulled out a gun and fired, trying to buy herself time to escape.

Outside, the cabby jerked fully awake from a doze. Gunshots rang out, coming from the direction of the church. He snapped his head around and stared wide-eyed at the entrance. Nothing.

Phoenix hadn't moved. He simply stood there, waiting. Veronika took a step back, her ass butting up against the alter and her gun emptied.

"My turn." he whispered.

Veronika had no time to react. Her chest was struck by the heel of his hand as his body slammed into her with such force that she was lifted into the air and throne backward through the stained glass window, sending rainbow colored shards and refracted light everywhere. His movement was so swiftly that she didn't even see him do it. Or rather, she moved so slowly that she couldn't get out of the way.

Phoenix, like any surviving Nephilim, could "phase". They had the ability to shift into and out of this dimension and the heavenly one at will. The two dimensions exist in exactly the same space, but on different planes. Time passes much more rapidly on the heavenly (or angelic) plane, so as one minute passes on our Earth, ten may pass on in heaven. Naturally, this can come in handy when one needs to move large distances quickly or, as in this case, one simply wants to catch their opponent unawares. There is a price to using this ability; however, and that is that it can drain the energy of the one phasing very quickly if using it in short bursts, as Phoenix was using it.

Phoenix slowly straightened and narrowed his eyes at the gaping hole in the apse. The sound of tinkling glass drifted through the room as shards fell and settled onto the floor. Glass dust caught the light, lending an eerie glow to the place. After a moment, the sounds of a person rising out of the wreckage reached his ears, followed by coughing and footfalls crunching toward him.

"How very unchivalrous of you." Veronika remarked dryly from outside. "But really," she flew in with a flash, her black feathered wings spread wide as she came to a stop behind him. "Enough with the foreplay, lover." Her eyes glowed bright pink, the irises nothing more than slits and her body exuding a black cloud of disorienting fumes. "If you wanted me, all you had to do was ask!"

The two raced toward each other, clashing in midair with an earth rattling shock wave.

The old cabby felt the ground quake softly beneath the carriage, followed by a blinding light that expanded from the church like a ripple of water runs away from a rock thrown into a placid lake. Eyes bulging the cabby smacked his horses as hard as he could. "The hell with this!" he mumbled as his coach raced down the street.

* * *

Sebastian was fastening the last two hooks on Karma's fresh green dress when he heard the Marchioness's personal carriage rumbled to the front carriage entrance. Karma ran to the window, leaving Sebastian holding the dress hook in mid-closure.

"My Lady." She heard him sigh in annoyance.

She pressed her hands against the glass, watching excitedly as the Midford coachman came around to help the ladies out.

Mey-Rin's shrill, panicked voice arrived outside the door. "Mr. Sebastian! They're here!"

Sebastian's cool response trailed off as he hurried to meet them at the door. "Yes, yes. See if you can manage Lady Karma's last hook. It isn't difficult."

Karma heard Mey-Rin's maid uniform rustling as she came up behind her. She felt her jerking lightly at the back of her dress, attempting to close the final hook. "Got you trussed up tighter that a Christmas goose, yes they 'ave." she muttered.

"Mey," Karma said pointing. "Is that the Lady Elizabeth?" Mey looked over her shoulder to see the pretty blonde girl disembark from the carriage, looking splendid in a blue and sage afternoon dress topped off with a straw hat.

"Oh! Yes, My Lady. That's our Lady Elizabeth, alright!" Mey-Rin finally succeeded in working the last hook through its loop and gave a soft grunt of victory.

"Who is _she_?" Karma asked, sounding awed. Mey saw Lady Francis Midford exit next wearing her typical stunning ensemble.

"That's Lady Midford, that is." she said in hushed tones. "She's Lady Elizabeth's mum and the sister of Young Master's dad." She whispered in Karma's ear, "You watch your p's and q's around _that_ one…she don't tolerate slack manners, no she don't!"

Karma smiled as she watched Lady Elizabeth run to Ciel and embrace him in a choking bear hug. She heard her faint voice through the window, "CIIIEEEEELLLLLLLL!"

Just then an older, more severe looking woman in sensible clothing stepped out of the carriage and looked the manor over critically.

"That must be Miss. Bishop." Karma said flatly.

"I think so." Mey-Rin agreed. "Oy. She's a sour looking prune, innit she?" she frowned. Then seeing the look in Karma's eyes immediately added, "Guess that's why they say you can't judge a book by its cover. I bet she's a lovely lady, yes I do!"

Karma looked back out the window sullenly.

"Well! Let's 'ave a look at you, then!" Mey swung her around cheerfully. Stepping back she beamed. "Why, you look like a right proper lady, yes you do! Master's gonna be so pleased!" Karma managed a grateful smile and curtseyed. Mey laughed and took her by the hand. "Let's go meet your new friends!" she said and the two hurried out the door, one looking like she was going to a picnic and the other looking like she was going to her execution.

* * *

The manor was finally quiet, Ciel sighed gratefully, retreating to his study. It was always a trial when Lizzie came to visit, but with Karma here as well? His stomach had been tied in knots the entire day.

The initial meeting went well enough. No one said much except Lizzie, who wouldn't let Karma get a word in edgewise.

"OHHHH! You're so CUTE! She had said upon seeing Karma. "I know we're going to be just the best of friends! Where did you get your dress? Who did your hair, it's so lovely! I know! We can spend the day in town tomorrow shopping! We'll get tons of new, cute things and we can try them all on and trade them and fix them up with ribbons and bows! It'll be the best time EVER. I can't WAIT!"

Karma had simply blinked at the onslaught, not quite sure what to do, if anything.

_*I almost felt sorry for her.*_ Lord Phantomhive smiled.

Lady Midford had been characteristically cool and reserved. She had simply nodded a polite greeting and told Karma she "looked lovely, dear."

_*Miss Bishop…now she was interesting.* _Ciel puzzled. _*Not at all what I expected.*_ She was much older than he had been led to believe by the agency he had hired her from and seemed to be keenly observant of her new charge's every move.

At first he had chalked it up to professionalism…a servant trying to map her Lady's personality and preferences. As the day wore on, though, he had noticed some odd behaviors. The main one being she apparently did not like Sebastian tending to Karma in any capacity. At all. It had not gone unnoticed by the butler, either.

"Well, that will need to be addressed." Ciel stated aloud. _*And it probably wouldn't hurt to call the agency to see if there might have been a mix up.*_

The worst part of the evening was after supper. Over dessert Lady Elizabeth decided it would be a marvelous idea to throw a ball for Lady Karma, to welcome her and to introduce her to all Lizzie's "cute" friends. Here. At the Phantomhive Manor.

Reminding Lizzie that he had just suffered through that same torture not two weeks ago did nothing but lead to further excited chatter, as Lizzie proceeded to plan a grand gala right there at the table.

The study doors opened and Sebastian entered, bringing his evening tea.

"Is everyone properly settled?" Ciel asked taking the cup and saucer his butler offered.

"Yes, My Lord." Sebastian replied pleasantly, pouring the tea. "The Midford Ladies are snug in their quarters and I have shown Miss Bishop to her room in the servant's quarters." His face darkened.

"What is it?" Ciel prodded.

"I'm afraid Miss Bishop was not happy being situated 'so far away' from Lady Karma." He dropped a sugar cube in the cup and stirred. "You may very well get a request from her. I think if she could have slept under the girl's bed she would have." he added testily.

"Yes, I noticed an unusual attachment even though she's only just met Karma." Ciel remarked, sipping his tea. "Call the agency tomorrow and find out more about our Miss Bishop, Sebastian."

"Very good, My Lord." Sebastian complied. He had been planning on doing that anyway.

"I can't help but get the feeling something's not right here."

"And the dispatch?" Sebastian questioned.

There had been a new message from the Queen waiting for them when they arrived home that afternoon. Ciel had yet to tell him what it was about. _*How very unlike him.* _Sebastian frowned.

Lord Phantomhive looked at his butler for a moment, as if deciding what to tell him.

"There was a second body found after we had left." he advised.

"A second?" Sebastian repeated.

"Yes. She was the right age and general type, but there was one significant difference."

"Oh?"

"She was no prostitute." Ciel divulged. Sebastian looked truly surprised. "She was well dressed and maintained, but no identification had been left on her. It seems no one in the area knows who she is."

Sebastian thought out loud, "Why the deviation from modus operandi, I wonder."

"I assume that there was some personal reason aside from a sick thrill to this one."

"If that's the case, Master, then it might just prove to be his undoing." Sebastian said.

"Yes, find the reason and you find the perpetrator, I thought as much myself." Ciel yawned.

Sebastian smiled to himself. It was amazing to him how the Young Lord could make you forget entirely that he was still just a boy at the end of the day. A very confident, powerful and intelligent boy, but still a boy all the same.

"You look tired, Master. Let us retire for the night and start anew in the morning, shall we?" Sebastian never actually retired, of course, but he found that at least putting on the pretense of being somewhat normal went a long way in the cultivation of this soul.

"Yes, that would be a good idea." Ciel stood up and allowed Sebastian to put out the lights.

* * *

Miss Bishop stood quietly over Karma's bed, watching the young girl sleep. The moonlight fell through the window, illuminating the girl with a pale glow. After a moment she pulled Karma's blanket up around her shoulders and retrieved the little tea cup she had brought her tea in just a few minutes earlier.

_*What a sweet child she seemed to be*_ Miss Bishop mused. _*If only she could stay so innocent*_

She bent down, kissed the Lady on her forehead and blew out her candle.


	6. Part 6: His Butler: In the Beginning

The office door flew open and Veronika stormed inside, soaking wet and bloody.

"The hell happened to you?" Commissioner Randall asked gruffly.

Veronika went straight to the liqueur cabinet and poured herself a brandy. She downed it in one shot.

"Veronika!" Randall barked when she continued to ignore him.

"A Nephilim!" she snapped. _*Damn!*_

"A nuffalum? What the hell is a nuffalum?" he stood and approached her. Peering at the blood streaming down the side of her eye he whistled. "Must've been a hell of a brute to rough _you_ up like that." he said, somewhat impressed.

Veronika sneered and poured another drink, downing that one as well and wiping her nose with her sleeve. "Here, now…take it easy." He scolded, grabbing the glass. He was rewarded with a disgusted huff. "Besides, I thought your kind don't eat or drink."

"I like the burn." she replied.

Randall shrugged. "Whatever. So tell me about this nuffalum."

Rolling her eyes she pushed off the cabinet and turned to face him. "Nephilim." she corrected. She lit a cigarette and watched him as he wet a cloth napkin with cold water and handed it to her.

"And?" he leaned against the desk.

"A being…half human, half demon. Born of both worlds yet accepted by neither. They are essentially outcasts left over from the flood." Looking irritated at his blank expression she elaborated, "_Noah's_ flood. Big boat, lots of rain…it ended rather badly for you lot. Ring a bell?" He just looked at her, waiting for her to continue.

"Whatever." She sighed. "They, being the product of fallen angels *gesture to herself* and human beings *gesture to Randall* were an affront to God. They represented the very debauchery and sin He so hated. They were doomed before they were even born, although He didn't destroy them immediately. No one knows His reasons for allowing them to roam about for so long, but in the end He decided to follow through with His plans and sent a world-wide flood to eradicate them all, along with every other living being on this planet. The only exception had been the man Noah, his family and the animals he had been instructed by God to take with him on the Ark. Those Nephilim that were bound to this world were drowned with the rest of humanity."

"Christ." Randall whispered.

"No, He came later." Veronika said sarcastically. "Anyway, His plan worked, except some of the Nephilim inherited the ability from their divine sires to shift between the two dimensions, the Heavenly realm and this one, just as angels could. Those Nephilim just rode the flood out in hiding on the other side. Once the water receded and the danger had passed, they returned and have been making a bloody nuisance of themselves ever since." She crushed her cigarette in the ashtray.

"Why doesn't God just strike the rabble down, if he wants them all dead?" Randall asked.

Veronika smiled humorlessly. "There was an interesting development shortly afterward." she laughed. "Seems the Nephilim who remained valued their existence and wanted to make a deal. They agreed to protect certain…divine assets… from us in exchange for full pardons and the freedom to live out their lives in peace." She caught Randall's eye and he saw pure hatred spill out of her like blood from a slaughtered calf. "In other words, they wanted to earn their salvation, and we were the means by which they would do it."

She came to stand in front of the window, staring vacantly out…her mind thousands of years in the past. "Imagine." she whispered. "Cast out of paradise to burn for eternity, and He welcomes those mongrels with open arms so long as they're slaughtering us."

Randall remained silent, watching her as she inwardly walked down roads long since lost to time and buried beneath centuries of sand. He refused to sympathize with her. She was a merciless demon and most likely deserved whatever punishment was handed down to her. Still, he could understand how the idea that a lesser being was awarded something precious that had originally belonged to you would be enough to piss a demon off.

Wasn't that how he wound up here with her in the first place, after all?

His mind drifted unregulated through its own dark corridors, bringing him to stand in front of a table in a darkened corner of his favorite public house, The Anchor. Randall grimaced as he re-lived that night four months ago. One could argue that it was quite literally the last day of his life.

* * *

*Four Months Previous*

It had been a brutal day for the Commissioner. Not only had another body turned up in the East End again, but today he had received word that the Queen was more than a little displeased with the lack of progress being made in the investigation. To Her Majesty, every day this killer…this "Jack the Ripper" as the papers had taken to calling him…ran free was another day her people must live in fear and in growing apprehension that he would never be caught and brought to justice.

"This is unacceptable." she had written. "Our people will not continue to live as hunted vermin, terrified to leave the relative security of their own homes for fear they will be this cunning cat's next meal! Our people are the body and soul of this great nation and we will do whatever we must to preserve their lives and interests to the utmost of our abilities. Do we make ourselves perfectly clear?"

Of course she had. Lord Randall knew he was being given a chance to redeem the Yard's muddied reputation with this case. Solve it (but solve it quickly) and Scotland Yard would be held up in the high regard befitting an elite servant to the Crown, with the Commissioner alongside it. Failure to do so would result in unpleasant consequences for the department, also with the Commissioner alongside it.

But they still had nothing! No promising clues, no reliable witnesses, no discernable pattern! Randall knew that if he didn't make real progress and soon, Her Majesty would simply whistle for her ace in the whole…her Watchdog…

"Phantomhive!" he seethed quietly out loud, clutching his stein so tightly the thick glass cracked along one side.

"My, my." an amused, husky voice came from behind him. "It seems someone is in need of a good, stiff drink."

Lord Randall turned in his seat to see, quite possibly, the most beautiful woman he'd ever lain eyes upon standing directly behind him, a sultry, red smile adorning her powdered face. He sat stupidly, certain that _this_ woman wasn't talking to _him_.

She laughed lightly and made a small, gesture toward the door. "Well, are you going to invite me to join you or should I just call a cabby?"

The Commissioner jumped to his feet and drug a chair out for her, sliding it beneath her as she smoothed out her well-tailored, cardinal red dress suit. _*Judging by her appearance, she must be a career lady* _Randall thought as he settled back into his seat. _*A secretary or a tutor or the like.* _

Her hair was pale blonde with a few dark chestnut locks mingled in. He'd never seen color like that before but the effect was striking. Her eyes were well situated and languid, the color of orange amber. It suddenly struck him how wolf-like they were. A red hat topped off her elegant look nicely, slightly tipped to one side as was the latest fashion. _*No jewelry.*_ Of course he had looked for a wedding ring, but he was surprised to see not a single trinket adorning her person anywhere.

"Beg your pardon, Madam." Randall said, returning to his own seat. "I'm afraid you caught me off guard, there. I certainly wasn't expecting to see a lady such as yourself in this establishment, much less speaking to me." *chuckle*

"Is _that_ all it was, then?" she responded, waving a server over. "Thank goodness! I was beginning to think I'd misjudged you." Leaning toward him she whispered playfully "I'm rather proud of my ability to search out and corner my prey." She laughed openly at his stunned expression. "How serious you Englishmen are! I find it all very diverting."

Her good-natured ease lured the normally cautious Commissioner into a far more unguarded demeanor than was characteristic of him, especially when dealing with someone whose mannerisms he would normally find more than a bit scandalous.

She whispered something to the server and then shooed him on, keeping her eyes locked on Randall's, a mischievous twinkle lighting them up beautifully in the darkened room.

"I…I'm afraid I didn't quite catch your name, Madam." Lord Randall suggested, watching her retrieve a cigarette from her small bag and leaning into the table candle to light it. Was it him or did the room seem somehow larger? The surrounding chatter and sounds of patron activity more distant.

She drew in a deep lungful of the noxious smoke and regarded him with lighthearted forbearance. "Ah yes, of course." she exhaled, watching it billow forward then waft about lazily in the air. "The customary introductions." Then tilting the cigarette to criticize it from a new angle she mused, "You humans have such delightful ways of killing yourselves, it really is rather impressive."

"Madam!" Randall said, not believing the woman across from him would speak so frankly about such matters. And, _"humans"_? What an odd turn of phrase.

She crushed the cigarette out and waved her hand gracefully, as if to dismiss the statement entirely. "Veronika Aristov." She said.

Lord Randall stood up, took her hand and bowed slightly. "I'm very pleased to make your acquaintance, Madam Aristov." He sat and continued, an air of importance descending on him, "I am Lord Arthur Randall of Her Majesty's Scotland Yard."

The server arrived, setting two tumblers of whiskey in front of them. Randall eyed his apprehensively while Veronika eyed him.

"My, that _is_ an impressive mouthful." She smiled. "Would you mind terribly if I called you Lord Randall. Or better still, Sir Arthur? I love that name and it's been such a long time since I've had the pleasure of one's company." The last thought seemed to delight her.

"Not at all, Madam." He obliged, finding her manner fascinating.

"Wonderful! And you may call _me_ Veronika. Really, all that "Madam" nonsense simply makes me feel my age." She took a sip of her drink and gestured to his. "You wouldn't make a lady drink alone, would you, Sir Arthur?"

Normally Lord Randall wouldn't dream of consuming such a common grade liqueur but the lady was inviting him, after all, and he was not one to refuse a lady's requests, especially if they were not unreasonable. No, he couldn't offend her.

He chuckled nervously, wrinkled his brow and then downed his glass. Veronika smirked as he drew in a sharp breath.

"That's *cough* got some kick to it!" he gasped.

Veronika motioned to the server to bring another and deftly led Randall's attention to her again.

"So, now then." She slyly wove her web. "You looked terribly out of sorts when I first met you." Lazily, rhythmically she stirred her drink and watched Randall's face darken from beneath her lowered eyelashes. "I take it this "Phantomhive" person is the culprit?"

The commissioner's eyes seemed to follow her stirrer with a mind of their own. He felt himself responding, knew he was still talking, but could not seem to hear himself at all. Only her sympathetic voice, gently prodding.

"That Phantomhive!" He was slurring angrily. "That mutt is a menace to society! Queen's Watchdog, indeed." He pointed at her "You know that boy is nothing more than a common criminal, himself! He's a disgrace to the Crown! That's what!"

Randall settled quietly across from her, hands clenched in his lap and trying to capture one, concrete thought amid the jumble of experiences, conversations and emotions concerning the boy that swirled around in his fuzzy head. Somewhere deep inside his rational brain there was a tiny voice trying desperately to warn him that something was wrong. A beer and one whiskey was not enough to illicit this level of intoxication! But all he could see or hear at the moment was Ciel Phantomhive's smug sneer mocking him from the far reaches of his memories.

_*My, is it hot in here?*_

Veronika observed the man across from her as he struggled inwardly with a dispassionate eye. She felt a moment of revulsion for him. _*His soul is not steady. His mind torn and wavering. He has no true sense of self at all!*_ she admonished. Sighing she made peace with herself. _*His will be a bland menu, I'm afraid.*_

* * *

The hired coach came to a stop in front of a tidy line of expensive apartment houses and a decidedly inebriated man stumbled out with the help of a stunning young woman. An odd sight to see in this exclusive neighborhood, to be sure. Especially at two in the morning. And even more so considering the drunkard being assisted to the door of one of the dwellings was the Yard's Police Commissioner.

"You need 'elp with that, Miss?" the cabby called reluctantly.

"No, thank you." Veronika managed. "We'll be fine."

The lady fished a set of keys from his coat pockets and let them inside.

The cabby trundled off, leaving the couple to their business.

Veronika shut the front door slowly and placed her forehead on the pretty stained glazing, thinking of the task ahead. She turned and leaned against the door, staring down at the disoriented man sitting in the foyer. She drew off her gloves, revealing a pentagram seal on her hand. It was inscribed with the Latin words "ea corrupta", or "she corrupts".

"You _really_ don't hold your liqueur well at all, do you Arthur?" smiling she knelt in front of him.

Randall looked at her and reached out to touch her hair. "So…so beautiful." he said quietly, smiling at her. "Like an angel."

She stroked his cheek, seal glowing faintly in the dark hall. "Ironic, isn't it?" she mused absently, trailing her finger down his neck and chest.

He was beginning to get a bit more lucid. _*Good.*_ While Veronika didn't need his full faculties to make the contract stick, she did need him to at least acknowledge and accept the proposition presented to him.

Gaining acceptance, acquiring permission, well…that was something she was exceedingly good at.

Veronika settled onto his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck, allowing him to explore her slowly, with all the wonderment of a child discovering the magic of their very first Christmas tree.

"It isn't right, what they're putting you through, darling." she simpered, hugging him and speaking into his neck. "After everything you've done for your Queen and country, after working so diligently to maintain peace and order for the good of the community," she drew back and caught his eyes, expressing sorrow and concern in her own. "and still they don't recognize your sacrifices, your efforts." Veronika brought her forehead to his, touching their noses. "_They_ don't understand you at all, do they?" she whispered.

"No." he breathed.

She leaned away a bit to look him in the eyes. He came forward with her, as if attached by a string. She gently pushed him back against the wall. His eyes were helpless…and desperate.

_*Now that's what I want to see.* _she delighted inwardly.

"Let me help you, Arthur." Veronika went in for the kill. "Give me your love and I will give you my devotion." She kissed his forehead. "Give me your life and I will give you my skill." She kissed his nose. "Give me your soul and I will give you…Ciel Phantomhive's ruin." she murmured breathlessly as she kissed him deeply, drawing him to her.

Lord Arthur Randall, Commissioner of Her Majesty's Scotland Yard, renowned for his calculating and impeccably ethical demeanor in the face of adversity now found himself bound tightly up in this woman's web, and there was no other place at that very moment he would have rather been.

He pulled her close and stood up, carrying her into his room and falling with her onto his bed. She pushed his coat off and helped him unbutton his shirt. Her hand grabbed his and guided it up her thigh while they embraced in a tangle of legs and lips. She suddenly pushed him back, her hand on his chest.

"Promise me!" she demanded passionately. "Promise to give me what I've asked for!"

"Of course!" he agreed feverishly. "Anything you want…anything!" and he lowered himself onto her.

"I'll take that as signed and sealed." she declared triumphantly, her eyes shone and her irises narrowed into no more than cat-like slits.

Randall had pushed himself up at the eerie tone of her voice just in time to see her glowing hand slam into his chest.

The silence of the sleepy, picturesque neighborhood was shattered with an unearthly scream, followed by the sound of several confused and alarmed family dogs here and there.

* * *

*Present*

"I didn't think you meant literally, you know." The Commissioner stated irritably when he realized Veronika was watching him massage his chest.

*Tsk* "Details, darling." she replied dismissively.

"So this Nephilim tried to take you out?" Randall looked her over. She was barely showing any signs of a fight now, much less a battle to the death. Gave him the willies every time. "Well, he didn't do a very thorough job, of it." He muttered.

"Really now, I couldn't let that happen." She said in mock concern. "I'm not finished keeping up my end of the bargain yet. There's still work to be done before you've seen your revenge." her eyes narrowed in malice.

Truth be told, she had no idea why Phoenix had not finished her off when he had the chance. She could still see the fierce resolve in his eyes as he had stood over her, his enormous lux revolver in hand, preparing to deal the "death" blow…but then…something had distracted him. It was only a second but it had been enough to buy her escape. He never pursued.

"Why you?" he asked dully. She looked at him, her mind brought back by the sound of Randall's flat voice. "This Nephilim, why target you? What did you do?"

"Did I say I had been targeted?" she asked slyly, shaking off the dread of that memory. "I told you. He's a Nephilim. He kills my kind. He doesn't _need_ any more reason than that."

"What you _said _was that God granted them salvation in exchange for their services as protectors of certain 'divine assets' from you lot. Not that they kill your kind for the shits and giggles of it."

"It's late…" she smiled dangerously. "I have business to attend to still and by morning, so will you. I suggest you go home and get some rest, darling." She turned to leave.

Randall's stomach churned. "Veronika, I'm begging you…" Randall approached her and looked sincerely into her eyes. "I don't want revenge anymore…not like this! Never like this!"

Her stare was cold and unyielding. She regarded him with contempt. "Am I or am I not delivering that boy's noble head to you just as I promised?" She stalked to his desk and threw the paper down in front of him.

The headline glared at him, "Two More Mutilated Bodies Discovered! Could the Ripper Still Be Live? Should the Watchdog Be Put Down?"

He just stared at her, horrified at her twisted interpretation of revenge. "I've given you my professional devotion and used my skill and that brat is falling from grace even as we speak…yet you stand there trembling like the weak, pathetic creature you are, too afraid to take your final bow in this life with so much as an iota of dignity or satisfaction in your triumph." Her eyes traveled the full length of his body reflecting nothing but disgust and irritation. "I'm going to have to wash you down with a choir boy or something."

She slammed the door as she left the office, leaving Lord Arthur Randall to contemplate the irony of his impending "victory".

* * *

….._*RUN EVE!* _

*There is so much blood! Where am I?*

_*Where is she, Phoenix?*_

*Darkness! I can't see in the dark!*

_*Find her!*_

footfalls running…panting, burning breath…screaming in the distance…

*MONSTER!*

_*Gotcha!*…_

Karma shot up, dripping with sweat and covering her mouth to stifle the scream that had woken her up. Her wide eyes scanned the room before leaning over to look under the bedframe. She moved to the middle of the massive mattress and sat there, drawing the blanket up over her head.

After a few moments she scrambled out of bed, dragging the blanket behind her and rushed to the window. She quietly climbed through and hurried across the roof ridge to the small flat spot she had discovered behind a chimney when she first arrived.

Like a little bird in a nest, Karma snuggled down into a ball there and watched the night sky. She didn't know why she felt so safe there, but she did…and at the moment, all she wanted was that. To feel…safe.

As dark clouds passed over the stars they gave them the illusion that they were winking at her. Her eyes grew heavy and she silently dozed off into a dreamless slumber.

Never once did she notice the still figure keeping watch over her from further up the roof, perched high atop another nearby chimney. His large, winged shadow fell across her like a dark veil, as if keeping her hidden from the monsters that sought to devour her.


	7. Part 7 His Butler: Private Eye

**_"Death is No Respecter of Demons"_**

**_Part 7:  
"His Butler: Private Eye"_**

Ciel's bleary eyes involuntarily snapped shut as his curtains were drawn back with a flourish.

"Good morning, Young Master!" Sebastian's tiresome cheerfulness greeted his ears with much the same effect fingernails on a chalk board would have.

The young lord rolled over and pulled his comforter over his head, ordering the sun to stay hidden just five minutes longer.

Unfazed, Sebastian continued while pouring hot tea in the master's cup, "You'll remember that you've given me some errands for this morning, therefore I altered your schedule accordingly."

Ciel's keen nose caught the aroma of fine Darjeeling and he peered out at the tray his butler was fussing over.

"Is that sponge cake with strawberries and cream sauce?" he asked.

"Indeed, Sir. I also thickened some of the cream and added a bit of egg white and fine sugar to it to make a filling that is both delicate and airy." Sebastian was rather proud of his culinary improvisation, especially considering the lengths he had gone to training himself in the various methods of preparing and presenting a meal considered acceptable to the human palate. Or to a Phantomhive's. No small accomplishment for a demon lacking taste buds.

Ciel sat up stiffly. He loved sponge cake, and this version looked positively moreish, but no power in heaven or on earth would force that admission out of him. He never gave Sebastian the satisfaction of knowing he had managed to please his master. _*Especially since he is practically drooling on me at every turn as if __**I**__ was a sponge cake!*_ he thought grimly, closing his eyes and giving the butler a haughty look. He lifted his chin so that a napkin could be tucked into his collar.

"I suppose it will do." he said indifferently as Sebastian offered the plate to him.

Ciel's outstretched hands grasped nothing but air and he opened an eye, raising its brow. Sebastian was looking at him impassively, tantalizing plate in hand.

"I'm sorry, Master. If this is not to your liking please allow me to fetch you something more suitable." he said amicably, and began to remove the dish. Ciel watched the cream sauce run to one side of the plate and dance around the rim, mocking the hungry young lord. "I believe Baldroy made his chef's special this morning…'beans on toast' he calls it…"

"That won't be necessary." Ciel snapped. "This will be fine."

"Very well, My Lord." Sebastian said smugly, holding out the plate once again. "If you are sure."

Ciel glared at him and snatched it. He began eating slowly, taking deliberately small bites in an effort to salvage some of the superiority Sebastian had managed to humble out of him.

Sebastian ignored him and busied himself with laying out the master's attire for the day in the order in which it would be put on. "As to your schedule," he continued, "I regret that I had no choice but to cancel young master's dance lesson with Mrs. Bright for today."

"Yes, tragic that." Ciel mumbled dabbing the corner of his mouth with his napkin. "Go on."

"Of course we are expected to be at the new crime scene by ten this morning. We will leave at eight-twenty-five and I will endeavor to get us there promptly by nine-forty. Punctuality serves to establish your commitment to Her Majesty and this investigation." He beamed.

"Fine." Ciel said, handing Sebastian his fork and empty plate. He slid himself to the edge of his bed and dangled his feet over the side of it, waiting to be dressed. "And then?"

"Then I shall call on the employment agency and find out what I can about our Miss Bishop." He answered, slipping Ciel's dressing gown off and replacing it with a cream colored shirt under a blue vest with cream stripes.

"Alone?" Ciel frowned. "And what do you have me doing during your query?" he asked, lifting his cup of tea. He loved the smell of Darjeeling. *sip*

Sebastian's hands focused on tying the delicate blue ribbon expertly around Ciel's neck while his eyes shifted to the boy's face.

"You, My Lord, will be accompanying Lady Elizabeth and Lady Karma as they enjoy their day on the town, shopping."

Fine Darjeeling choked the young lord as he inhaled sharply, snatching up his napkin to cover a coughing fit.

"My Lord, really…" Sebastian frowned, adjusting the bow and dabbing tea from Ciel's collar. "…remember your asthma."

"Shopping?" Ciel wheezed.

"Why yes, of course." Sebastian stopped to give his master a quizzical look. "Now that the murders have begun anew it would be negligent to allow three unattended young ladies to roam about the streets of London." He returned to his work, selecting the stocking suspenders and sliding them onto Ciel's legs.

"It will be the middle of the day!" Ciel protested, "What could possibly happen to them in a busy market on Oxford Street in the middle of the bloody day?"

Sebastian pulled his socks up and clipped them tightly. "Nothing, I'd wager." He answered bluntly, then stopping to eye him seriously he continued, "However, My Lord is expected to show considerable interest for the safety of his betrothed, polite society demands it. If Lady Elizabeth were to be seen fending for herself right after a new body had turned up…well, what kind of fiancé would you look like?" *smile*

Ciel's face flushed as Sebastian hoisted him to his feet and slipped his pants on, fastening them and then brushing them off. He scrutinized his work for a moment then sat Ciel back on the bedside like a doll. He tilted his head thoughtfully.

"I believe the midnight blue ankle boots with the cream satin spats will do for the day, that way if we get blood on them at the crime scene we can simply remove the spats." The very idea that he arranged his thirteen year old master's ensemble around how bloody it may or may not get had never occurred to Sebastian as odd and likely never would. "Yes…" he finished, fetching the boots, and hooking them. "And the dark Ulster overcoat should serve nicely as well."

"Now then," he moved to stand Ciel up but the boy slapped his hands away with a scowl. Lord Phantomhive stalked over to the full length mirror and looked himself over critically. _*Damn! Not a thread out of place!*_

Sebastian watched him with a smirk. "Keeping in mind Lady Elizabeth's usual excitable state, it should be no more than two hours before she grows weary of walking about and is ready to head home for tea and a nap," He leaned Ciel's cane against the wardrobe. "at which point I will pick you up in our separate coach and we can call on your friend, the Undertaker. He should have something useful to tell us." He added, noting Ciel's disdain.

The butler laid Ciel's gloves and eye patch out on the chest of drawers and gathered up the tea service, dirty crockery and tray.

"I'll be awaiting you downstairs, Sir." He stated, gracefully sweeping toward the door.

"Sebastian." Ciel said, keeping his eyes on his reflection. He could see Sebastian stop behind him in the mirror, hand on the door knob.

Sebastian's eyes narrowed. "Sir?"

The young lord brought his eyes up slowly, catching Sebastian's in the reflection. "What is the real reason you want me to escort the ladies?" he asked suspiciously. "What do you expect to find at the agency?" After a moment of silence Ciel pressed further, "Do you think I don't see you pulling strings, manipulating circumstances in the background? Positioning players to your own advantage?"

Sebastian's mouth curled up into a smug smile. "As I've said before, My Lord. You're growing sharper every day. I truly am so very proud of your progress." His eyes flashed, "You are becoming one hell of a king, My Young Master."

"Say's the cunning knight." Ciel countered. "You will tell me everything you uncover at the agency, Sebastian." He turned to his butler. "_That_ is an order." The boy's left eye flashed, sealing the demand.

Sebastian grinned pleasantly, "Yes, My Lord." he acknowledged and exited the room.

* * *

Descending the Grand Staircase, Ciel pulled on his gloves and swung his cane. _*He looks quite authoritative and composed, all things considered.*_ Sebastian admired from the foyer, holding his lord's overcoat and hat. _*Do you know, I think he may have grown a mite.* _he mused.

The illusion of stateliness was broken with a shrill "CIIIIEEEEEEEELLLLL!" The young lord winced as Lady Elizabeth rushed up from behind and hugged him.

"Isn't this fantastic?! A whole day in London with my fiancé!" she gushed.

"Technically…" Ciel began, getting cut off immediately.

"I simply couldn't believe my ears when Sebastian told us!"

"Indeed." A cross glance at his smiling butler. "Nor I."

"And Karma and Paula (she arrived by hired cab just this morning, Mum had to leave for home, something about a formal dinner, I think, but even still)! It'll be like a dream come true!"

"Speaking of," Ciel interjected as Lizzie took a breath. "Where is Lady Karma?"

"She's not come down yet." Elizabeth frowned. "I hope she's feeling alright. I couldn't bare it if we had to cancel our plans! Maybe I should go check?"

Ciel scanned the landing in front of the West Wing and caught a glimpse of auburn hair and blue eyes duck behind the banister from where they had been quietly observing, followed closely by a big white blur. _*Hiding. Now why hadn't I thought of that?* _he thought, amused.

"No need. I'm sure she's just adjusting to her new companion." He stated, dismissing the question and shrugging into his coat.

"Now then," he continued to Lizzie with all the charm he could muster, "I will see you in London promptly at noon. I understand Whiteley's has a new clothing shop. Perhaps we should stop in while we're there."

Lady Elizabeth was practically beside herself with joy, eyes bulging as he took both her hands and kissed the top of them.

"Don't forget…noon, in front of the Red Horse Lodge." He bowed slightly and tipped his hat. "My Lady."

Sebastian followed Lord Phantomhive to the coach, leaving a swooning Lizzie at the front door, stars in her big green eyes.

"Well done, Master." Sebastian said under his breath as he helped Ciel into the cab. "Quite the accomplished young Casanova." *smile*

"Shut up and get me out of here"

* * *

Karma watched the coach roll away from the upstairs hall window, hair sticking up crazily from all the rollers and ribbons in it. She rubbed Ghost's silky ear absently.

"Lizzie looks so happy, doesn't she?" Karma said softly. Ghost licked her hand in answer.

"There you are!" Miss Bishop bustled up behind her. "What on earth are you doing?"

Grabbing her hand she hurried her back into her bedroom. "Come along, Ghost." she ordered. The dog padded obediently behind them.

"You are expected to be ready and on your way in less than an hour!" she said, exasperated. "And here I find you standing around in your rollers and all-togethers! It's a good thing the Young Master didn't see you!"

Karma blushed. She watched the hefty woman worrying over her, putting one frock against her cheek, then another. She had determined that Miss Bishop was not wholly evil. In fact, she could be rather pleasant and seemed to be genuinely concerned with Karma's wellbeing, if a bit clingy. Karma decided she liked her after all and nibbled on a biscuit while Miss Bishop began freeing her locks.

"Miss Bishop," she asked, her voice muffled through the biscuit.

"Don't talk with your mouth full, dear." The woman admonished her lightly. "What is it?"

"Do you like Sebastian? The butler." She clarified needlessly. "I mean, does he seem at all…strange to you?"

Miss Bishop's eyes glanced quickly from her charge's face reflected in the mirror back to her work. She detected nothing obvious in it. No indication that the inquiry was anything other than a simple question. _*How frustrating.* _she sighed.

"Heavens! Whatever made you ask _me_ such a thing?" she laughed. "I barely know him, yet."

"But you don't trust him." Karma stated flatly. "Why not?"

Miss Bishop stopped and came around in front of the girl. "What gave you that idea?" she said as she squatted to address her directly.

"I don't know." Karma muttered, dropping her eye's to the half-eaten biscuit in her hand. "You look at him oddly, like you're waiting for him to…I don't know." She trailed off quietly, letting Ghost steal her cookie. "Never mind."

"You know," Miss Bishop said smiling, "My father used to tell me to let your heart be your guide…and when that fails, ask a good dog what's what." She winked and gave Ghost a quick pat.

Karma smiled gratefully at her.

"KAAAARRRRMMMAAAAAAAA!" Lizzie's voice pierced the door from down the hall.

Karma winced and looked helplessly at Miss Bishop. "Coming!" she replied loudly.

Miss Bishop chided her, "She's just trying to be a good friend and make you feel at home, Karma."

"I know. And I like her, I truly do, it's just… a little of her company goes a very long way." She whispered the last.

Miss Bishop laughed despite herself. "Indeed."

"Sometimes I wish I was more like her." Karma said thoughtfully. "I only mean that I wish I was as friendly and naturally good-tempered as she is."

Miss Bishop touched Karma's cheek and smiled. "You know, my father used to tell me that a person can only be who they are, therefore we are always exactly as we should be, nothing more and nothing less."

Karma pursed her lips as her mind attempted to unwrap that one.

"Now…" Miss Bishop said briskly to her with a good-natured pat on her leg, "I do believe I might be stuck. Be a dear and help an old woman up, won't you?"

Karma giggled at her and supported her weight as she stood up.

"Whew. Remind me to never do that again!"

* * *

Standing over the corpse, the two remained silent. It was exactly like the body they had examined yesterday. The victim was in her mid-twenties, was bled out and her body mutilated, the uterus having been removed.

"This one's different." Sebastian spoke first, after a time.

Ciel looked at him. "How so?"

The girl from yesterday had her uterus removed using a razor sharp blade…a scalpel or a barber's shaving razor perhaps. The incision was clean and fluid." He knelt down and pointed to the woman's wounds. "This woman was the unfortunate recipient of a much duller instrument. See here and here, the jagged and torn flesh where the blade was forced?"

Ciel bent down to get a better look.

"Mind your hem, Sir." Sebastian said absently.

Ciel peered at the wounds. Just as Sebastian had described the edges were tattered looking, as though the uterus had been ripped out of her rather than cut out.

Ciel frowned. "A copycat of a copycat?" he proposed dubiously. "That's not very likely, is it?"

"At this point, my lord," Sebastian stated as he stood to help Ciel up, "I'm not prepared to rule anything out."

A train whistle sounded from the station just outside. Sabastian pulled out his watch. _*Eleven thirty-five.*_ he briefly calculated the time needed to get Ciel to the Red Horse Lodge from here. _*Maybe ten or eleven minutes.*_

"No." Ciel agreed and frowned. "I suppose we will have to make that call later. I hope you have some funny new material." He continued as he left the room, "I have no intention of being the butt of that lunatic's joke for a second time!"

Sebastian turned back to the corpse and paused for a moment, regarding it with suspicion. He knelt down once more and removed the woman's left glove. He sighed softly as his fears were confirmed.

A Faustian contract seal was faintly visible under the ashen skin.

It took a special weapon to kill a demon. And a special breed of fighter to wield it. There were two such warrior kinds in this world. The Nephilim and their charges, the Demon Hunters.

_*And which of the two did you meet with, my dear?*_ he wondered, standing up.

There was one more thing that bothered him. Why would either feel the need to disguise their handiwork to look like that of a dead serial killer? Ciel's idea of a second copycat might not be too far off the mark. It seemed two offenders were on the loose…but what was the connection?

"Sebastian!" an impatient voice called from outside.

"Right away, My Lord." He tossed the glove onto the body with little care and joined his master.

* * *

Sebastian pulled the coach up to the sheltered entrance of the lodge. He opened the door for Lord Phantomhive and gave him a quick once-over, brushing a bit of lint off his shoulder.

"Now then." He said to a sullen Ciel, stepping to the side just in time to avoid the collision he had noticed coming their way.

"CIEL!" an excited voice squealed a moment before grabbing him from behind at a speed adequate enough to knock the air right out of him.

"Lizzie!" he replied breathlessly, attempting to sound pleased. "You made it, I see."

Sebastian looked on as though he were attending a comedy-drama performance at the theater, a stupid grin on his face. He wondered idly how Ciel managed to keep his hat on his head every single time Lizzie accosted him. *smile*

"Of course I did, silly!" she laughed. "Come on! Everyone is waiting for you inside. You can have a quick cup of tea before we start!"

"I'll just be on my way, Sir." Sebastian announced cheerfully. He waved as Lizzie dragged a protesting Ciel behind her toward the lodge. "Have a good time, Lady Elizabeth!"

_*I will kill him for this.*_ Ciel swore to himself.

* * *

"So _you're_ Sebastian Michaelis!" a rather plain looking woman gushed over the counter at him.

Sebastian smiled pleasantly, "Yes, indeed I am, Madam."

"Oy! No need to call me 'Madam'!" she laughed. "Betty's just fine, bein' as it's my name."

"Very well, Betty." he obliged. "You'll forgive me, but you don't sound like the young woman I spoke to on the telephone earlier this morning."

"Oh! No, Mr. Michaelis!" she giggled. "That was the agency's manager, Amanda. We just call her Mandy."

"I see. I was under the impression she would be here around this time." he hinted. "I have some questions I'd like to ask her about our new house servant, Miss Bishop."

"Well, Mr. Michaelis, Mandy always goes to the hospital on Wednesdays to check behind the ladies working over there personally. Normally she's back by now, but she seems to be running late. Perhaps I can help?"

"Do you know Miss Bishop, then?"

"Not personally, no. She is a very popular companion and nanny around here though. She is rarely ever out of work. So many fine homes want her for their girls, you know."

"Really? If that's the case then it seems strange she would be hired out so often." Sebastian puzzled. "Wouldn't a family keep her on throughout the entirety of their child's youth? She shouldn't be available for rehire but once every ten years or so, if she's doing so well."

"Yes. But I understand she has had a bit of bad luck with the families she's gone to work for." Betty shook her head sadly. "Poor people. Such tragic circumstances."

"I'm sorry," Sebastian frowned. "but could you be a bit more specific, please? To what 'tragic circumstances' are you referring?"

Betty suddenly looked uncomfortable and twisted her fingers nervously. "Perhaps you should wait in the sitting room and talk to Miss Mandy when she gets back, after all." she suggested. "I'm really not supposed to talk about certain things, you know. I can bring you a cup of tea and a biscuit while you wait." she offered politely.

"Actually, Betty," Sebastian brushed his hair back gracefully and put on his best come-hither face. "I'm in a bit of a bind. You see, my master is expecting me to rescue him from a rather tedious engagement soon, and I must be there on time." He leaned toward her, lowering his voice. "I know you understand, facing certain deadlines yourself, I would assume." He gazed into her eyes as if to convince her they shared a common bond.

"Yes, of course I understand, Mr. Michaelis." She answered gravely.

"I knew you would." *simper* "So if you could indulge me just this once I would be forever in your debt…Betty." *smile*

"The kids all died!" Betty blurted.

"What's that?" Sebastian was caught off guard.

"Every last one of them." she went on. "Here…" she rummaged through a drawer and produced a file. "Miss Bishop's personnel file. The reports are all in there."

Sebastian took the file from her and smiled woodenly. "Em…Thank you, Betty."

He rested the file on the counter and opened it. She hadn't been exaggerating. Every family that hired Miss Bishop lost at least one child, sometimes all of them. Each case file had been closed with no suspicious circumstances and no obvious connections…except the nanny. Cause of deaths listed were Cholera, Small Pox, Crib Death, Accidental Drowning, Typhus, Yellow Fever, and even choking. They all cleared as either "natural" or accidental".

"My, my." Sebastian said softly. "Either you are one of the most unfortunate nannies ever born or one of the cleverest."

He turned the final report over revealing the personal information of one Jessica Bishop, aged: 25, height: 5'5", weight: 8.8 stone…and a photograph of a pretty brunette that was most definitely not the woman currently residing at Phantomhive Manor. But he had seen her before…

He had examined her body just this morning at the train station.


	8. Part 8: His Butler: The Deceiver

Sebastian was deep in thought as the coach made its rambling way down the narrow street toward the Red Horse Lodge. Miss Bishop was exactly what he expected her to be, an imposter. What he hadn't wagered on was the _real_ Miss Bishop being a demon. At first he had suspected the fake of killing the real nanny, but the murder had taken place sometime yesterday, near noon. Wasn't our "Miss Bishop" with Lady Midford and Lady Elizabeth during that time?

"He loves me." a dreamy voice floated up from behind him. "He loves me not."

Sebastian's contemplative face fell into a look of annoyance. He didn't need to turn around to know who _that_ voice belonged to.

"He loves me, he loves me not." a lazy hand tossed two petals from the coach's side window.

Sebastian slowly pulled over and descended from the box seat. He approached the door of the coach and opened it, his bland eyes fix on the unwelcome stow-a-way.

"He loves me!" Grell Sutcliff exclaimed plucking the final petal from the naked, sad looking daisy held between his fingers. He threw his hands up in delight and clapped them together, addressing Sebastian. "Oh, Bassy! Tell me it's true!" he leaned toward the unamused butler. "Tell me _this _is a testament to our **_love_**!"

Sebastian eyed the pitiful flower held under his nose. "Well," he said dryly as the flower seemed to hang its bald head even lower in shame. "it certainly sums up _my_ sentiments well enough."

Not missing a beat the red-headed reaper winked at Sebastian and tossed his hair playfully. "You're such a terrible tease!" he chided, pretending to be affronted. "But you can't hide the truth from me, darling!" he suddenly threw himself at the butler, causing Sebastian to take a step back. Grell grinned like a Cheshire cat, exposing sharp, jagged teeth. "I know your secret, Bassy!" he whispered with obvious glee.

Sebastian stepped to the side, holding the door wide open. "Please remove yourself from my master's coach immediately." he said evenly.

Ignoring him, Grell struck his chest dramatically and declared to the heavens "You pretend to be a cold and unfeeling brute but I know _you_ are in fact a roaring inferno of passion, consuming all that you touch with the white hot flames of desire!"

Leaning to the point of nearly falling out of the cab, Grell closed the gap between himself and Sebastian, tilting his head and batting his eyes but an inch from his stony target's face. "OH BASSY!" he pled fanatically. "Consume me!"

With one swift move Sebastian tossed his enraptured admirer neatly out onto his face.

"Thank you." the butler said, dusting his hands off and climbing back onto the box seat.

Sprawled on the ground, Grell's muffled voice protested indignantly, "What a horrible way to treat a lady, Bassy, really!" he sat up and sniffed. "You didn't even ask me what I was doing back there in the first place." *pout*

"I would truly rather not know, Grell." Sebastian frowned, taking up the horse reigns. Glancing down at the obnoxious reaper Sebastian couldn't quell the uncomfortable realization that Grell could come in handy.

_*Master did want to speak with him yesterday, after all…Or did he want to kill him?*_ he thought. _*Well, either way…*_

*sigh* "Oh very well, then" Sebastian relented. "What _were_ you doing defiling Young Master's seat, anyway?"

"After the way you treated me?" Grell sounded positively insulted. "I don't think so!" he leaned against a tree and studied his nails intently. "Exactly how easy do you think I am?"

"Dear me!" Sebastian gazed into the distant sky, striking an attractive pose from atop the coach. "The sun is positively brutal today, isn't it?" He stripped off his coat and whipped out a handkerchief, dabbing his face and neck. "Just look how I'm sweating. I believe I shall simply melt away at this rate." Running a hand through his moist hair he flicked the hanky away.

Grell's eyes snapped open, watching the shameless display with all the keen interest of a fox in the hen house. The handkerchief landed squarely on his upturned, adoring face. In an instant he was leaning against Sebastian, and holding a parasol over their heads.

"Poor Bassy." Grell cooed. "Isn't this better?"

Sebastian looked at the ridiculous thing, dumbfounded. "Where the devil were you keeping _that_ hidden?"

Grell simply smiled wider and leaned in closer. "No self-respecting lady travels without one." he stated.

"Of course." Sebastian said dully, pushing him back with a finger. "As you were saying," he prodded.

"Hmmmm?" Grell gazed at him. "Oh, that…" he remembered the question. "I was just on my way to an assignment when I saw you were going in my direction. I thought I might as well enjoy the scenery along the way." *grin*

"That's it?" Sebastian demanded irritably.

"It doesn't have to be." Grell raised his eyebrows suggestively as he flipped the parasol around and hooked the butler by the neck. "Grrrrr…" he growled.

* * *

Sebastian looked at his pocket watch as he pulled up to the lodge. Five till two. He had made it. _*But just barely!*_ he shot an angry glance at a sullen Grell straddled over one of the horses, his arms bound tightly behind him by rope and his own parasol.

He scanned the crowd for signs of his young lord among the mob pressing in around him.

"My, it is a rather busy day for the merchants here it would seem."

"Sebastian!" Lady Elizabeth's high-pitched voice managed to dominate the din easily enough. She stood waving excitedly nearby.

Sebastian smiled and dropped down to greet Lord Phantomhive properly.

"Ah! There you are, my Young Master." he spoke to the stack of shopping boxes towering next to Lizzie. "You've had a successful outing, I see."

"Don't just stand there, you moron." came the muted reply. "Take these to the Lady's carriage. What do I look like, a footman?"

"Not at all, My Lord. You're much too short to qualify for that position" Sebastian's eyes glittered merrily as he relieved Ciel of the packages.

"Did you have a nice afternoon, My Lady?" Sebastian asked Karma, who was watching quietly from beside their brougham.

"Oh yes!" Lady Elizabeth cheerfully answered for her. "We found ever so many cute things! Didn't we Karma?"

"Yes," Karma agreed politely. "And it's all so very…pink." *forced smile*

Sebastian chuckled lightly. "I can imagine, My Lady." he stacked the boxes neatly and secured them.

"We even found Karma the most adorable dress for the ball tomorrow night!" Lizzie announced with obvious relish.

"Is that so?" he sounded appropriately impressed.

"Sebastian!" Ciel's voice beckoned. "Would you be so good as to explain why, exactly, there is a restrained Grell on my horse?" *pointing*

"Terribly sorry, Sir." Sebastian joined him. "I found him loitering about the carriage. I thought he may be of some help regarding the recent unusual activity as he is a reaper, after all."

"Well get it down from there." Ciel ordered, preparing to send the girls on their way home. "He's beginning to draw attention."

"Of course, Sir." he bowed as Ciel swept by him.

* * *

The coach entered the back streets of London, its three passengers bumping about as the wheels struck the odd pothole here and there. Ciel had decided to hire a coachman to courier them to their destination so that they could talk privately along the way.

Ciel watched the two across from him with amusement. Grell, unbound and giddy, was leaning into Sebastian like a lovesick schoolgirl on a date with her crush. Sebastian was leaning stiffly into the door, staring straight ahead with a scowl.

"Didn't you say you had a job to do, Grell?" Sebastian asked, suddenly wishing he had not decided to bring the reaper along to begin with.

"MmmHmmm." he agreed dreamily. "But that's a good three hours from now. I'm all yours till then, Bassy!"

"Enough of this nonsense." Ciel finally took over. "Sebastian?"

"It would seem that our Miss Bishop is an imposter, My Lord." Sebastian straightened, shrugging off the clingy redhead. "The woman on record at the agency was definitely not the woman we know."

"Was?" Ciel caught the small clue.

"Indeed. The real Miss Bishop is very much deceased."

"You can say that again!" Grell interjected enthusiastically. "Surely you saw that much for yourself, Watchdog!" Ciel looked at him. "Ugh…what a mess, eh?" Grell blanched. "Not the least bit of concern for the art at all! Not like the first one, now _that_ Ripper impression was tres magnifique!" he gushed.

"Hang on, the body at the train station…_that_ was the real Miss Bishop?" Ciel puzzled.

"So it would seem, My Lord." Sebastian confirmed grimly. Guessing the boy's concern as he caught his eye Sebastian added, "I have reason to believe that Karma is in far less danger with the imposter than she would have been with the actual Miss Bishop."

"And why is that?"

"The real Miss Bishop was a demon." he said bluntly.

Grell laughed. "She made your Madam Red look like the tooth fairy!" he said insensitively. "Leaving a path of children's bodies like bread crumbs and nary a soul to be found…gruesome devil, that wench."

"A demon?" Ciel ignored him. "But she was dead." he recounted pointedly. "Is that even possible?"

Sebastian sat quietly, his impassive eyes locked onto Ciel's demanding ones. "Demons are immortal…that's what you once told me, was it not?"

"I did not lie, Master." Sebastian answered evenly.

"Indeed he didn't" an eerie voice agreed, "but then…you didn't exactly tell the truth in the plainest way, now did you, Master Butler?"

No one had noticed that they had arrived at their destination. Nor had they noticed they had a new passenger with them.

"Oh dear." Grell shifted uncomfortably. "Awkward." he sung under his breath.

"Undertaker." Ciel demanded. "Tell me what you know." His eyes never broke from Sebastian's.

"Very well." he agreed, flashing a malicious glance at the butler. "A special discount, just for you, Milord. I'll answer both of the questions you want to ask me for the price of one…_if_ you make the butler pick up the tab tonight." he cackled softly and pointed a long, pale finger at Sebastian. "I do so love a good joke."

"Why do I get the distinct impression you aren't referring to my wit?" Sebastian asked dryly.

"Do it!" Ciel ordered angrily.

"There's no need, Master. I'll tell you myself." He replied coolly. "You are not ignorant of our arrangement, My Lord. I will never leave you nor will I betray you. I will protect you, I will serve you and I will remain by your side to the very end. And I will never lie to you. That does not mean, however, that I will always interpret your orders as you intended me to, or that I will offer more information than necessary to meet my contractual obligation."

His red eyes penetrated the shadows of the cab and drew Ciel in, plunging him deep into the abyss of a demon's twisted mind. His deceptively soothing voice seemed to surround the young lord, echoing in his head with a disorienting reverberation that trapped him, like a hare in a poacher's snare.

"I _am_ immortal. And so are you. You see, My Lord, that which makes us who we are…what you humans call a soul, lives on even after physical death. While our bodies may wither and rot in the earth, our essence…our inner-most self…can never perish, it can only transition into a new state of being and take up a new residence."

Ciel felt as though the world was suddenly falling away as a darkness blacker and more tactile than crude oil enveloped him, clogging his throat and filling his lungs with its heavy, toxic substance.

"Congratulations, My Young Lord. There aren't many people who can boast of having such an active participation in determining the location of that new residence as you can."

* * *

Karma watched Miss Bishop unwrap and hang all the new dresses and accessories Lady Elizabeth had bought for her that day.

"My goodness!" Miss Bishop whistled. "Well, your little friend is certainly a generous young woman, I'll give her that!"

Karma smiled but said nothing.

Miss Bishop suddenly inhaled sharply with obvious admiration as she lifted a pretty, ocean blue evening gown with sky blue accents from the large box sitting on the bed. "Oh my!" she breathed. "This must be the one she got you for the ball."

Miss Bishop arranged it neatly on the hanger and brushed it out a bit, hooking it to the wardrobe so she could step back and see it all at once.

"It's positively beautiful, Karma. You will look just splendid tomorrow evening!"

Karma stared into the sea of blue satin and lace, her mind drawn away by…_*What?*_…she didn't know. The ripples of shiny fabric seemed to move of their own accord, at first slowly and then as if ocean waves caught on the sea's angry wind. _*It's so cold.*_ she shivered.

"Karma, dear?" Miss Bishop said gently, touching the girls shoulder.

Karma snapped back and looked blankly at the woman's concerned face.

"Is everything alright?"

"I…" Karma looked around. The room spun and altered. A different wardrobe with a different blue dress was in front of her, then it wasn't. A different cream colored door replaced the dark walnut door of her room, then it disappeared. "What's…I know this place…" The canopy bed changed into a large bed with a beautifully upholstered headboard. Then it, too, was gone. She turned around, watching the room fade in and out as she grew dizzier and dizzier.

"Well, what do you think?" she heard a cheerful voice from behind, sounding close but somehow distant too.

"It's perfect." She answered mechanically, as if reciting a line from an old, tired play.

"It _is_ perfect, isn't it?" the voice said wistfully. "I saw it today and I knew it was made for you." A light touch brushed on her face as her hair was pulled back.

"But it looks so expensive…" she answered dully.

"Eve!" the warm voice laughed. "Let me spoil you just a little every once in a while… You train hard enough as it is…tonight we dance!"

She smiled. "Thank you, Karma." she said out loud.

Miss Bishop caught her as she fell to the floor. She picked the girl up easily and laid her down on the bed, feeling her forehead and humming lightly to her.

_*Come back to us, dear*_ she willed the sleeping figure as she arranged her comfortably. _*I'm afraid you're running out of time, here.*_

Ghost trotted into the room and jumped onto the bed, laying his massive head across her small waist.

Miss Bishop patted him warmly and moved to the door.

"You behave yourself, you hear?" she warned the dog, who tilted his head to one side, his huge mismatched eyes blinking innocently.

* * *

"My Lord?" Ciel heard a distant voice calling to him through the foggy limbo between consciousness and unconsciousness. "My Lord, are you alright?" He could feel himself being lifted up slightly, his head cradled carefully in his knight's arms. How easy it was to believe that tender care was genuine.

Other concerned voices joined Sebastian's.

*sarcastic* "Well, that was brilliant, Bassy. Shall we go kick a puppy next?"

*irritated* "His asthma set in, Grell…really…"

*laughing* "Don't go kickin' off on me now, milord…I've not fit you for your coffin yet!"

*Exasperated* "Oy! I hope one of you lot can pay the fare if that kid's done in!"

Everyone immediately fell quite as Ciel began laughing. The sound of it was so foreign and uncharacteristic of the boy that everyone but Sebastian stepped back a bit. He opened his eyes and looked up at his protector.

"You can be killed." he said, smiling triumphantly. "_That's_ what you didn't want me to know."

Sebastian's face visibly darkened.

From off to the side somewhere Grell's inappropriate humor and poor timing struck again. "Oh snap, Bassy." *Undertaker cackle*

Sebastian slid into his customary, pleasant demeanor and smiled. "Of course I can, Young Master. At least, as much as sentient beings such as yours and mine can be."

"How?" Ciel pushed.

"Does My Young Lord have any particular reason he wishes to discuss this at the moment?" Sebastian inquired, narrowing his eyes.

"I'm simply curious." The Young Lord responded with indifference, rising to his feet. "That's all." Sebastian stood next to him and brushed the dirt and leaves that had stuck to his overcoat off solemnly. "Does that bother you?" Ciel's eyes flashed, keenly searching Sebastian's face for any sign of deception or concern. He saw neither.

"Should it, My Lord?" he asked casually, raising an eyebrow.

"You believe I might consider alternatives to our contract. Is that it? You've kept me in the dark over something as useless and insulting as that?" Sebastian eyed the boy critically. Seeing the resolve in his Master's eyes and the contempt in his air, Sebastian marveled at his Young Lord's iron will and strength of character.

"If you believe _that_ then you don't know me at all, Sebastian." He said, turning and giving the butler a scornful look. "As immensely satisfying as I would no doubt find your downfall, I am in no way looking to avoid my contractual obligation. I am a Phantomhive, after all! I made a deal with the devil of my own free will, choosing to borrow against my own future" he stated plainly, straightening to his full height and holding his head high. "and Phantomhives always pay their debts in full."

Ciel looked around at the group, obviously impatient to get on with it.

"Well, are we going to stand out in the alley all afternoon like common vagrants or are we going to finish our business?" he challenged before turning and entering the Undertaker's shop.

Sebastian smiled faintly, an intense excitement stirring inside him. There were days, or sometimes even only moments such as this, in which the hunger he felt became almost overwhelmingly acute, awoken by the simple realization of what he truly possessed in this young boy of an Earl. To be so young and yet so mature and well developed after all that he had witnessed and endured. Things that would have easily broken a grown man could not break his Master…no, they tempered him instead, like iron armaments forged in the very fires of hell. The fear and the pain that he had known he conquered and twisted to his advantage, turning them into strength and power. Even now, when he is offered a brand new spider's thread of hope down into the darkness he willingly sinks beneath, he refuses to take it for simple family honor's sake.

_*__**This**__ soul… * _Sebastian admired silently, _*Yes, this soul is the embodiment of all that humans should strive for…the potential in them all lives inside this one, small boy.* _his tongue swept eagerly across his sharp teeth. _*And he belongs entirely to me.*_ he smiled.


	9. Part 9 His Butler:Crossing that Bridge

Ciel watched the group enter behind him with slight agitation. Sebastian brought up the rear and closed the door. _*Well he looks rather pleased with himself.*_ Ciel thought moodily. _*I certainly hope I had nothing to do with that.*_

His servant scanned the room and found the only chair in it. He dusted it off and brought it to Ciel, pushing it under him as if they were at the dinner table. He then took up his position behind the Earl.

Sebastian's eyes landed briefly on Grell, who suddenly pretended to be coy, dropping his head, batting his eyes and patting the empty spot next to him on one of the many coffins lining the area. The butler exhaled irritably. _*Well, at least he's over there and not wallowing in my lap this time.* _he reasoned to himself.

Seeing everyone was settled, Ciel launched into the matter at hand.

"Right, then." he began. "What we know so far is this…Just two days ago the Ripper murders appeared to be making new appearances, first in a flat on the East End in Whitechapel and then again yesterday around noon at Paddington Station. Now, at first blush these incidents seemed to have been committed by one person, most likely a copycat of Madam Red and Grell's Jack the Ripper fiasco not long ago." Ciel paused just long enough to shoot Grell a nasty look. Grell seemed totally oblivious to the slight as he leaned forward, elbows on knees, and watched the Earl intently with a somewhat unnerving, gleeful excitement. _*Idiot* _A resigned Ciel went back to his debriefing.

"They both have been mutilated and their uteruses' removed. They are both in the same age range as those found in the original case. This, however, is where the similarities end. The murder we investigated on Monday was expertly carried out. Whomever committed that crime was well studied and efficient…"

"And artistic!" Grell added with obvious admiration. He turned to the Undertaker, "Really…you couldn't even tell it wasn't me! Such an eye for details! I had to check my schedule just to make sure I hadn't done it after all." he laughed, tickled by his own astonishment.

*Ahem* Ciel glared.

Facing the boy once again, Grell acknowledged Ciel's presence, "Yes?" And then remembering himself, "Oh! Yes…do go on…" he invited, swinging his feet back and forth as they dangled in front of the coffin like an overly energetic child.

"Thank you." Ciel said flatly. "As I was saying, the first murder was virtually undistinguishable from the Jack the Ripper murders while the second, although similar, had some very telling differences."

*The Undertaker leaned forward and silently offered Grell a dog biscuit, which Grell waved away with some distaste.*

"In her case, the wounds were not precision cuts but instead seemed to resemble tears, possibly due to a dull knife or some other such woefully inadequate instrument. As we were discussing on the way here, Sebastian also believes the second victim to be a demon like himself. _*No loss there.* _Finally…"

*crunch*…*crunch*…*crunch*… the Undertaker sat in a corner, munching happily on his biscuits. Seeing the Earl glaring at him he raised the tin up slightly, in offering.

"_Finally_…" Ciel bit off. "There's the matter of her location. The other murders, including Monday's, all took place somewhere relatively quiet in the East End, near the Whitechapel area. But this last corpse was discovered in Paddington Station on Praed Street in central London…she seemed to have just disembarked from the train."

*A glance to see who was paying attention*

"Furthermore," the Earl continued, "Sebastian has discovered that the murdered woman from yesterday is none other than Miss Jessica Bishop, the servant I had retained to care for Lady Karma during her _*hopefully*_ short stay at Phantomhive Manor. What Karma has to do with the whole of this is anyone's guess, since she is currently suffering from some rather persistent type of amnesia."

"Ahhhhh, yes…the amnesia." The undertaker shook his head solemnly. "How is the poor dear lately, anyway?" he asked, furrowing his brows with slightly exaggerated concern. "It seems forever since I've had the pleasure of the little lady's company. Now…" this with a twinkle in his eye, "_there's_ a lovely corpse for you. I'd be delighted to see here on my table any day." he smiled cheerfully.

Ciel could not hide his astonishment. "_You_ know her?" he asked incredulously, not a little put out for just now hearing of it.

The Undertaker looked genuinely confused, as though he couldn't fathom why the young lord was so agitated.

"Why, of course I do…" he answered matter-of-factly. "That girl and her _very_ impressive mentor kept me hoppin' whenever they were in town." He gestured to the line of coffins adorning the walls. "Of course, most of the clientele they sent my way had to be burned but occasionally I'd get a beautiful specimen worth all that work."

"…clientele?...burned?..." Ciel struggled to paint a sensible picture in his mind, but nothing sensible about all this could be found.

"Certainly." He said. "You can't very well leave a demon's corpse out where it will get picked up and buried in the ground, now can you?" he looked as though the very idea was unfathomable. "What good would that do, desecrating the land like that? Do that enough and you'll not have a sacred place to plant a human anywhere!" he pointed for emphasis. "No…the only way to rid yourself of a demon corpse is by fire."

"Rule number 6 in the Shinigami hand book." Grell agreed, nodding his head soberly. "I dare say that's why I hate dealing with a demon's demise…all the extra work." Then to Sebastian, "Do a girl a solid, Bassy, and try not to get yourself killed on my watch, eh?"

Sebastian looked thoroughly unamused. "I'll keep that in mind." He turned to the Undertaker and asked simply, "So she is as I suspected?"

"Aye, she carries the Birthright. Was there ever really any doubt, demon?" the Undertaker smiled.

"Just what the blazes are you three going on about?!" Ciel demanded, entirely fed up with being left out of the conversation and angrier still at being so damned uninformed to begin with. "What bloody demons? What birthright?"

Sebastian bowed humbly and addressed his master with little emotion or ceremony. "Forgive me, Master. Allow me to explain. It would seem that the young girl under your care is in fact a Demon Hunter." he advised plainly, as though he were relaying the day's schedule.

Ciel blinked, mouth clamped shut in stunned silence.

_*Karma?!* _

* * *

Ghost's eyes popped open as familiar voices drifted incoherently up through the vent in the bedroom. He raised his head to look at the sleeping girl for a moment and carefully hopped down from the bed, padding over to listen to the sounds coming from the vent. Twisting his head he strained to make out the words, but it was no good. He returned to the side of the bed and looked intently at the girl, then out the window, then back at the girl…

Ghost loped to the window and sniffed the lock. Apparently satisfied, he turned and bounded out the cracked door in search of the source of the voices, toenails scraping the hallway's polished floors and causing him to skid around corners more than turn around them.

* * *

"I just don't understand why you think we have to do this…" a deep, angry voice was saying. "She's not even been in play for the last eight months, Bev! She was barely able to accept the Birthright to begin with, and now you want to pit her against that hell-demon?"

*Clickity…clickity…clickity…clickity…* the sound of claws against floor approaching was entirely unnoticed by the pair arguing in the boiler room.

"Have you lost your damn mind?!" and then after a pause, "You give her too much credit, Beverly."

"And I think you give her too little, Phoenix…she was Karma's ward after all." the imposter Miss Bishop responded quietly.

*Clickity…clickity…clickity…clickity…*

The handsome, black haired man with wine colored eyes snapped around and glared at her. "Karma was at least 6 years older than that girl when she was finally initiated and sealed for service! She was well trained and prepared for what was coming!" he contended. "Eve wouldn't even be sealed at this age had Karma…" he broke off, unable to finish.

Beverly gave him a sad, sympathetic expression and laid her hand gently on his arm.

*Clickity…clickity…clickity…clickity…BOOM!*

Ghost came through the door, big paws out in front of him and slid toward the startled two, slamming into the metal door of the boiler with a sharp yelp as they stepped swiftly out of his way.

"Oculus! Vigil!" Beverly chided, vexed at the sudden intrusion.

The massive mutt shook his head and body vigorously, as if to throw the collision off, and promptly split in two. The two halves instantly changed, leaving a pair of very odd and very small figures behind.

"I'm doin' the drivin' next time, wot wot!" the *slightly* taller one was saying to the shorter. "You ain't got the first coordinated bone in your 'ole bloomin' body!"

"We ain't got bones, ya silly git." The shorter responded, brushing itself off.

Phoenix watched them with obvious irritation while Beverly put her hands on her wide hips and glared.

"Why aren't you watching Eve?" she demanded.

"What's that?" they answered in unison.

"Oh!" the taller one with purple eyes known as Vigil replied with a wave of dismissal. "She's still asleep and locked up all nice n' cozy in 'er room.

"She'll be fine!" they both said nonchalantly together.

Oculus and Vigil were short, neither of them over three feet tall and Vigil boasting a full inch more height than Oculus at two foot ten inches. Of course, recorded history had always depicted Cherubim short and so that would come as no surprise to someone meeting one for the first time. The rest of the widely accepted description is, as Vigil was always quick to point out, "bullocks".

They were thin, bordering on wiry, although Oculus was slightly heavier than Vigil. Their nearly translucent white skin seemed to absorb and reflect any light nearby and was enhanced by large soulful eyes. Vigil had lovely purple eyes and Oculus sported pink. When together in one form, such as in Ghost's case, the new form displayed one purple and one pink eye. They were perfectly smooth with four fingers on each hand and stood with a slight bend in their knees. Their ears looked like strange, delicate butterfly wings made of thin membrane and there were tattoos on their bald heads and running down their "spines" of lines written in an unknown language.

At least, that was their most common sentient form, the one they considered "natural".

"What we want to know" Vigil said with a frown, "is what's with the secret meeting?" "Yeah, why weren't we invited?" Oculus chimed in, sounding hurt. "She's our friend, too, ya know."

"Of course she is, love." Beverly soothed. "But you were busy keeping an eye on her and I needed Phoenix's help running a little errand. That's all."

Vigil grunted, unconvinced but Oculus continued quietly, "Beverly? When do you think she'll wake up?" those big eyes sought reassurance. "I mean, _really_ wake up?"

"I don't know, dear." Beverly said quietly. "If all goes well very soon, I hope."

She touched the worried cherub's head and smiled. "Now, as you two seem to need a task to keep you out of trouble," she said good-naturedly, "I need you to find me some more Valerian root. I need a stronger dose for this evening's tea. Think you can manage that for me?"

"Are you kiddin"?" Oculus said excitedly and grabbed a grumpy Vigil around the shoulders. "With our nose, we'll be back in two shakes of a lamb's tail!" and it squeezed Vigil tightly, both of them merging with a pop into the dog, Ghost, once again.

As the ungainly brute scampered out of the boiler room and up the steps leading out of the basement, Phoenix watched Beverly looking wistfully after them.

"You aren't going to tell them, then?" he asked, reproachfully.

"What good would it do?" Beverly sighed. "They would only be distracted. Eve needs them focused." She turned to face the young man in front of her. _*He might be a rebel to heaven*_ she thought, _*but he has a heart of gold. I truly feel blessed to have known this group of wonderful companions and to have shared my life with them for the past few years. Bumps and bruises and all…No regrets.*_

"Besides," she added pointedly. "Isn't this the moment all our kind are ultimately working toward?" She smiled as Phoenix looked away. "You just worry about getting that mail delivered."

As she moved to walk out the door, Phoenix said softly behind her, "I still think you're wrong about this."

Without turning around, Beverly simply answered him, "Perhaps. But it's my call and if things go badly, I know you will handle it admirably."

She left him in the boiler room alone. Phoenix pulled an envelope out of his duster and turned it over.

Madam Veronika Aristov

Kensington

She was staying with her latest victim.

_*Seems luck is on your side, Lord Randall.*_ Phoenix mused to himself.

* * *

"Karma?!" Ciel repeated, this time out loud. "A Demon Hunter?!"

"Yes, Sir." Sebastian answered simply.

Ciel looked at the Undertaker, urging him with puzzled eyes to explain. The Undertaker smiled smugly.

"Really?" Ciel asked incredulously. "Now?"

"That was to be your second question, after all." The Undertaker's smile broadened, giving his demeanor a menacing undertone. "Unless, of course, the Master Butler wants to answer this one as well?"

"No thank you." Sebastian refused impassively. "You are far more knowledgeable about this particular matter than I am. I never really had an occasion to research demon hunters, to be honest."

"But you're a demon." Ciel said dryly. "Wouldn't you of all people want to know the specifics?"

"Not really, Sir." he replied. "They are very rare, after all. I decided I would simply cross that bridge if and when I came to it."

"Well, you're at it now." The young Earl stated shortly. "Pay the man so we can go home and sort this all out. I could use a spot of tea, to be frank."

"Yes, My Lord." Sebastian bowed obediently.

Ciel stalked outside, not wanting to witness the disturbing process of tickling an Undertaker's funny bone for a second time. After a moment he was followed by Grell, who wore a sour expression on his face.

"What's the matter with you, then?" Ciel asked.

"I saw nothing funny in _that_ at all." he snapped, crossing his arms.

The small shop erupted with laughter and Ciel was called back in by his butler, who apologized for the wait.

"Never mind that." The boy answered impatiently. "Well?" he directed his attention to the mortician, who was laying limply across the counter, drooling.

"A deal is a deal," he said, still chuckling, "Isn't that right, Master Butler?" he shot Sebastian an amused look, but was coolly ignored.

"Very well, then." he said, jumping up and sitting on the edge of his counter, peering into Ciel's big, blue eye. "You see, demons roamed the earth long before it was inhabited by humans and other forms of sentient life. They were once angels that had been kicked out of heaven for disobedience and treachery. Once here they couldn't really do anything harmful, so things just rocked along slowly. Then people came into the picture and demons saw their chance to pay the Big Guy back, so to speak."

"You're speaking of Eden, and the fall of mankind." Ciel said.

"Yes." the Undertaker grinned. "You see, demons saw how much man meant to Him, how proud He was of them, and so they set their plan in motion."

"They tempted Eve into defiling herself with the apple." Ciel interjected again.

"Indeed…so little has changed, eh butler? Although this 'Eve' is cuter than the original." the Undertaker cackled, eyeing the Earl.

Sebastian remained still and quiet, refusing to let the mortician get under his skin.

"So with one blow the demons destroyed heaven's love child…you lot." he said. "But the Boss refused to let them have all of you. Eventually He designed an escape boat in a Messiah but before that he raised an army of special warriors to combat those demons who meddled with the natural order of human ascension. Demons like our butler friend here." He smiled.

"The 'natural order of human ascension'?" Ciel questioned.

"That's right, your eventual reunion with Him." He answered. "As Master Butler has already pointed out, sentient beings have souls…the essence of who they are…that remains after death. This is the part that returns to heaven, the part we reapers release from its shell upon death. Unless, of course, something happens to it." *again glancing to the stoic butler* "Say, for instance, if someone trades it for useless things…maybe marbles or candy …or revenge."

"There's nothing useless about revenge when it is truly deserved." Ciel bristled at the obvious implication.

"No?" the Undertaker feigned surprise. "Tell me, Young Lord…how many enemies have you cut down with your death scythe?" *a nod in Sebastian's direction*

"As many as I deem necessary!" Ciel glared.

"And how many of them do you think had their own Ciels waiting in the wings for them to come home and tuck them into bed the night you exacted your pound of flesh?"

Ciel paused.

"How many of those Ciels are now traveling the same dark roads you do, looking for the ones who murdered _their_ families, Milord? Looking for the monster that destroyed _their_ happy lives? Looking for you?" He peered at the quiet Earl. "Don't you see, boy? Revenge is not the end to one wrong but the beginning of many more. So long as your kind act by it you will forever be enslaved by it."

For a moment Sebastian thought he would have to end this questioning. He wasn't comfortable with the direction the Undertaker was taking his master. Not comfortable with it at all.

Before he could act, though, Ciel's wandering mind snapped back, his eyes unwavering. "Nonsense…even if what you are speculating did happen, it is no more my fault than it is the fault of any of the other victims, before or after me. As far as I'm concerned, if there is any blame to be had it's that of a poorly qualified god who would allow his beloved creation to wallow around in the spilled blood of his own anger and vengeance in the first place."

Sebastian smiled.

The Undertaker burst out laughing. "Exactly what I would expect an Aristocrat of Evil to say, Milord!"

Ciel ignored him. "So these warriors you mentioned." He quickly shifted the conversation back to the matter at hand. "Karma is one of them?"

"That she was." the Undertaker confirmed.

"Was?"

"Oh yes. She's dead now. Has been for…gracious….two years?" the Undertaker was enjoying the young lord's obvious irritation. "They don't tend to live very long, those demon hunters." He turned to Grell and continued, "You can imagine how disappointed I was she had died at her home in Scotland…I was so looking forward to servicing her."

"Well, you certainly could have worded _that_ better, darling." Grell said with an air of disdain.

"Then who the bloody hell do I have in my manor?" Ciel interrupted in a low, quaking voice.

"Why, that's Eve, Milord…" he said pleasantly. "Karma's protégé."

"And Eve…she's a demon hunter too?" _*We're finally making some progress.*_ he thought warily.

"She is now, yes. She received the Birthright from Karma."

"The Birthright?"

"Indeed. The demon hunter's seal. That which binds them to their sacred duty and gives them the ability to wield certain holy weapons and relics." then under his breath to Grell, "My, that does sound impressive said out loud doesn't it?" Grell nodded enthusiastically.

"It's like the contract seal, then. An oath to heaven rather than one to man." Ciel stated more than asked.

"Yes, My Lord." Sebastian finally broke his silence. "We bind ourselves to and obey out masters through our Faustian seal and by doing so, ultimately serve ourselves…they bind themselves to and obey heaven through their "seal", known as their Birthright, and ultimately serve God."

"That's it, then?" Ciel asked flatly. "They're glorified bounty hunters?"

Sebastian smiled. "Yes, My Lord."

"And that's what can kill a demon like you?" _*Aha!* _he breathed. _*The truth at last!*_

"Well, that or the Nephilim of course." Grell jumped in, scratching his head indifferently.

"Nephilim?" the Earl said blankly, looking to Sebastian.

"You know, the trust in your relationship is touching." Grell said sarcastically. "I'd love to elaborate on that one, cupcake, but if I don't get a move on I'm going to be late for work so how's about you give a working girl a lift?" he said as he grabbed Sebastian's arm and squeezed it playfully.

"I'm not a hackney, you know!" Ciel asserted crossly.

"No need to get huffy." Grell pouted and released the butlers arm. A glowing portal opened up and he headed through it. "I just assumed we might as well all go together, seeing as it's at your manor and all." and he stepped through into the light, the portal closing behind him.

"WHAT?!" Ciel bellowed after him.

* * *

Mey-Rin peeked out from behind the stack of barrels in the far corner of the basement, just outside the boiler room. She had come down to check the boiler, which had apparently lost its pilot light as there was no hot water for the laundry. What she found was "Miss Bishop", some hot guy and two wierdo _*gnomes?*_ carrying on a discussion in there about someone called "Eve".

To be honest, Mey-Rin had absolutely no idea what the group was up to or talking about…but they were doing it in the wrong house!

It had been a few minutes since "Beverly" and the gnomes disguised as Ghost had left and the room was quiet. She had not seen the third person leave, but there was a window in there he could have easily gone through.

Mey decided that is probably exactly what he had done. _*He wouldn't want to be seen running about in the manor uninvited, no he wouldn't!* _she thought. She pulled out her pistols anyway…just in case.

Stepping around to the open doorway she rushed in, guns drawn. Nothing. The window was slightly open. She hurried to it and tried to catch a glimpse of the intruder running away. Too late. He was gone. She shut and locked the window irritably.

"Well! I think it's time 'Miss Bishop' and I got better acquainted, yes I…" she was turning to leave when she ran squarely into Phoenix, who was standing directly behind her. Before she could register what was happening he spun her around and covered her mouth with one hand, pinning her against the wall and removing the guns with the other.

"Shhhhhhhhh…" he whispered.


	10. Part 10 His Butler: To the Rescue

*THA-WACKKKK!*

The whip cracked loudly over the heads of the two panicked horses racing Lord Phantomhive's private carriage toward its destination.

"For pity's sake, Sebastian!" Ciel called loudly from the cabin, trying to be heard over the thundering of the horse's hooves. "Get us there in one piece, at least!"

"I might point out, My Lord," Sebastian answered from the box seat as he held tightly to the reigns, "that we wouldn't be trying to beat Grell there right now if you hadn't been quite so arrogant."

Ciel scowled and held on to his cane and the window with one hand while gripping his seat tightly with the other as he was violently jostled about.

_*A demon hunter with amnesia, a fake nanny under suspicion for murder, an overly protective brute of a dog as well as three well-meaning but altogether apocalyptic house servants…don't forget poor Tanaka...LIZZIE…*_ he thought with a chill. _***And** a Grim Reaper on the way there?*_

"Oh God." Ciel grimaced. "I never reinstated the property insurance after the fire."

*THA-WACKKKK!*

* * *

Mey-Rin regarded the young man before her with doubtful eyes. He certainly seemed sincere enough. And if he had wanted to kill her he could have easily done so. But still….

Phoenix leaned against a wall across from her, looking entirely relaxed and almost indifferent. He was waiting for her to answer him, but she hadn't quite managed to process the whole thing just yet.

Sitting on the edge of a barrel in the basement she kept sizing him up. In truth, however, Mey couldn't be sure if it was in an attempt to determine his character or if it was just because he was quite easily one of the most gorgeous men she had ever laid her far-sighted eyes on.

_*He's beautiful!* _she sighed inwardly. _*So tall and powerful and his hair…even Mister Sebastian's hair isn't so dark it's shines blue like his does!* _Then realizing her admiration was bleeding into her reverence for the Head Butler she admonished herself, _*But he's no gentleman, no he's not!*_ she frowned rubbing her sore wrists.

"You didn't have to be so rough, no you didn't." she mumbled to him, recalling how easily he had disarmed and subdued her.

"Your two friends beg to differ." He replied coolly, holding up her two guns and expertly snapping the cylinders open to let the live rounds clatter to the stone floor. "And I'd wager these aren't the only side arms you're concealing under that uniform." He paused for a moment, narrowed his eyes and scrutinized her intensely.

Mey began shifting uncomfortably under his gaze. She did have a small derringer nestled in the band of her drawers and a thin dagger tucked into her boots…Her eyes popped open, _*What if he decides to go looking for them?* _She didn't know if she was excited or horrified by that prospect and she pushed herself even further back onto the barrel.

Phoenix's demeanor changed suddenly, smiling as if he knew what she had been thinking. He walked toward her and flipped the pistols around, butt end facing her. "Here." He said. "Just don't make me regret it."

She took the guns slowly, a look of stunned disbelief washing over her features.

"But….." she mumbled. "You ain't here to harm the Young Master or the Lady Karma?"

Phoenix turned his back to her and walked to the high window, taking a sudden, keen interest in the scenery beyond it. He gazed outside and raised his right arm over his head, leaning it against the wall while the fading sunlight painted him in shades of oranges and reds.

"You're her friend." he said, not turning to look at her.

"I try to be, I do." Mey answered in a small voice and she slid off the barrel. "I want to be. It's not that simple, you see." she explained as she went about gathering scattered ammo, never taking her eyes off the stranger for more than a second.

"Why not?" Phoenix asked bluntly. He could hear Mey-Rin reloading her guns behind him.

She slid one cartridge after another slowly into the cylinders of the custom revolvers and watched him simply standing there, impassively.

"Young Master says it's improper for a well-born lady to fraternize with the house servants. He was mighty displeased when he found out she had been eating breakfast with us, yes he was."

*CLICK*

Mey-Rin snapped the cylinders shut with a flick of her wrists.

Phoenix didn't appear to have noticed, but she knew he had.

"That's a little unfair, don't you think?" he asked, crossing his arms as the sun finally sank behind the tree line.

Mey-Rin's arms were by her sides, a gun in each shaking hand. This man's demeanor…his very presence…threw her off and confused her. She knew he was dangerous. In that she had no doubt at all…but to who?

"To isolate a young girl simply because she might turn out to be nobility?" he continued, obvious disapproval laced his words.

"Young Master did the right thing, he did." Mey said evenly. "He was trying to protect her from herself…keep her from sullying her name."

Phoenix's laughter was completely out of place there in that tense basement room, and it was not entirely jovial. There were definite tones of sarcasm and anger in it. He turned to face her.

"Her _name_?" he said after a moment, regaining his composure but keeping the amused smile. "What _is_ her name Mey-Rin?" he said leaning down to peer into Mey's nervous eyes. "Hmm? Who is her family? Where does she hail from?"

He sniffed with contempt. "How do you protect something that you don't have any working knowledge of in the first place? Trying to do that is a great way to get that thing killed."

Mey's arms relaxed and she looked to Phoenix with a straight, resolved expression.

"Who are you, then?" she asked boldly as she returned her weapons to whatever hiding place they had originally come from deep in the folds of her skirt.

"Tell me, Mey-Rin," he replied with an impish grin. "Do you believe in God?"

* * *

Beverly stood over the kitchen stove, stirring a small copper pot and humming quietly to herself. She watched the amber colored liquid eddy around in the center. Bits of tea leaves, spices and herbs were all caught in its weak vortex and disappearing beneath the surface. _*Very much how I've been feeling of late.*_ she smiled.

Baldroy appeared from the servant's stairs and greeted her with a smile.

"'ello, Miss Bishop!" he stood over her shoulder and took a deep breath, appreciating the aroma of a hot drink. "Making Lady Karma's evening tea?"

"Yes, indeed." She answered politely.

Baldroy's nose wrinkled a bit and he took another whiff. "I don't think I recognize that brew." he said curiously. "Is it foreign or something? Smells strong"

Beverly laughed good naturedly, "Yes…indeed it is. The main spices come from very far away, in fact. It is an old family recipe, known to cure whatever ails you."

"No kiddin'?" Baldroy sounded impressed. "I'll have to try me some, then."

Beverly smiled warmly at him. "Baldroy, would it be too much trouble to make a request for Karma's breakfast in the morning?"

Baldroy's eyes widened and his jaw fell slightly slack.

"You…you want me to fix breakfast for the little Lady?" he asked incredulously. "Really?"

"Certainly." She replied. "You are the Phantomhive chef after all, are you not?"

"Yes'sum." he agreed, scratching his head with a look of consternation. "Only, I think you're the only one here who realizes it."

"Well," Beverly moved the pot off the heat and wiped her hands on her apron. "I am much too busy with my own duties to arrogantly assume yours as well, wouldn't you agree?"

Baldroy watched her in astonishment. Of course the whole household felt that way about Sebastian on frequent occasions, but he had never met anyone with the audacity to actually voice it. He just nodded, cigarette hanging loosely out of the corner of his mouth.

"Good." she said cheerfully fetching a teapot and covering the open top with a strainer. "I was hoping Lady Karma might get a special treat tomorrow morning."

"Sure thing, Miss B…whatever she wants!"

Beverly beamed. "She does so love a good pheasant egg on sausage-toast breakfast, I understand. Do you think you could rustle up some fresh pheasant eggs for that? We'll give her a splendid surprise when she wakes up! That accompanied by grapefruit, strawberries with cream, a small glass of orange juice and a nice cup of Earl Grey should fix her up nicely for the day!" Beverly clapped her hands together as if elated by the very thought of pleasing her mistress.

"Yeah, sure!" Baldroy fell in line perfectly, appearing to catch "Miss Bishop's" excitement as though it were contagious. "But…where'm I gonna find pheasant eggs?"

Beverly glanced out of the kitchen window at the extensive grounds.

"Well, the sun is just now setting so the birds should be nesting for the night." she instructed. "There's a nice patch of ground cover on the south side of the manor, a bit a-ways from the carriage house, down the main lane. I've seen them frequenting that area the few times I've gone through there."

Baldroy nodded and listened as she continued while fishing a small wicker basket from the cabinet.

"Take this egg basket and line it with a towel to keep the eggs from breaking. Go there and make a racket when you get close to the undergrowth. That should flush the birds out so you can see where their nests are located. We only need four or so, leave the rest to hatch." She handed him the basket and smiled. "Think you can do that?"

"Of course I can!" Baldroy said proudly, looking ridiculous with the small basket on one arm.

"Of course you can." she repeated, tinging the words with admiration. "My father always told me, 'A man that can track and flush his own fowl will never fail to feed his family. That's a man worth his salt.' he'd say."

Baldroy smiled like a loon and ran out the delivery door of the kitchen, promising to be back soon with his prize.

"He really is a lovely man." Beverly said quietly to herself, waving as he disappeared into the shadows of the late evening. "So very helpful."

She turned back to her pot of tea sitting on the counter and pulled an ornate, silver dagger from her apron pocket. Setting it to the side she picked up the sugar and poured it slowly out onto a large plate, drawing a Triquetra first, then adding the Celtic Ogham symbol Ruis directly beneath it.

Closing her eyes she held her hands, palms up, over the plate as if in supplication.

"Mo cuimhne ambas mestas le mise," she chanted softly.

"Mo spiorad ambas mestas le mise."

Her eyes began to glow the same flaming blue white that Phoenix's had in the church with Veronika.

"Mo fuil ambas mestas le mise.

Mo bás mar chúiteamh ar son do aiseag"

With that she picked up the dagger and grabbed the blade, slicing the palm of her hand open. There was a blinding flash of pure white light as she lifted her face to the heavens and said "Bíodh sé amhlaidh!" _*see author notes_

Her blood dripped steadily into the sugar symbols below it, creating a thick, deep red paste.

Beverly's eyes returned to their normal hazel and she calmly picked up a nearby towel, wrapping her hand in it. She poured the hot tea through the strainer on the teapot, removing tea leaves and large bits of other seasonings and additives. She placed the pretty little pot on a tray next to a small pastry then picked up the plate with the bloody sugar mixture, spooning a good quantity of it into the tea. Stirring, she softly hummed that tune Karma, or more correctly, Eve was so fond of.

She placed the spoon in the sink and a tea cup on the tray, then gathered it all up and headed out the door, switching from humming to singing the last few words of the song as the door swung closed behind her.

"Though sad fate our lives may sever

Parting will not last forever,

There's a hope that leaves me never,

All through the night."

* * *

Phoenix was perched atop a tall Elm tree at the turn off from the public route onto the Phantomhive Estate's long private drive, looking back at the manor in the distance when a bright flash originating from the kitchen lit up the dusky sky. Immediately the sky grew black as dark storm clouds materialized out of nowhere and rain slowly began pitter-pattering in big, heavy drops.

Phoenix's eyes wavered and dropped, his mind and heart locked in a battle for control of the moment. When he looked up, resolve had replaced reservation and his eyes steadily observed the manor with no emotion.

He was certain the maid would keep her word to keep Tanaka busy long enough for Beverly to complete her goal. Oculous and Vigil were off running a fool's errand hunting herbs to keep them out of the way, the chef was likewise searching for pheasant eggs…in the dark, and he had seen Finnian napping beside the carriage house on the way out.

He heard the fast approaching sound of a speeding carriage and watched as Lord Phantomhive's private barouche skidded dangerously around the sharp turn onto the drive leading to the manor. Sebastian, at the reigns, glanced up directly at Phoenix as they passed by. Even at that great distance there was no mistaking the deadly warning in his eyes as he roared by, Young Master in tow. Phoenix never even blinked.

*THA-WACKKKK!*

The whip cracked as the carriage rumbled off into the distance. Phoenix stood, his leathery wings spreading out from nowhere, and he took to the night, determined to fulfill his part in this plan…if for Bev's sake alone.

* * *

Ciel had seen the blinding white flash moments before they reached the turn off to Phantomhive manor. _*What the hell was that?* _his mind yelled impotently.

"What the hell was that?" he demanded again, this time shouting to Sebastian over the roar of the carriage wheels and horse hooves.

"I'm sure I don't know, Master." and then with maddening calm he requested, "Please hold tightly to something secure." just before veering onto the drive of the estate.

Ciel had not had time to do so and wound up in a heap on the floor of the cab, legs sticking straight up against the bench seats, hat rolling around next to him.

"DAMN DEMON!"

* * *

Beverly entered the girl's room softly, trying not to disturb her.

Eve was sitting up in bed, her back supported by numerous pillows and her thick coverlet pulled up around her shoulders.

_*Bless…she looks truly pitiful.*_ Beverly thought ruefully. _*The process has not been an easy one for her, to be sure.*_

"Well! You're looking a sight better, I must say!" she lied.

Eve smiled weakly, "Really?" she asked, trying to sit up a little more. Noticing Beverly's hand she frowned and reached for her. "What happened?"

"None of that!" Beverly fussed at her gently. "You just save your strength. You'll never feel better if you keep using up all your energy for such silly, unimportant things! I just had a little accident in the kitchen, is all."

Beverly sat the tea tray down on the night table and settled next to Eve on the bed. She brushed the girl's hair away from her pale forehead and smiled down at her.

"My father always used to say, 'A dull knife is more dangerous than a honed one.' Well, I dare say he's never used one of Mr. Sebastian's knives." she laughed.

"Lizzie came by to keep me company a few minutes ago." Eve smiled back.

"Did she now?" Beverly sounded truly impressed.

"She wanted to get a doctor, but I told her I didn't need one. It's just a trifling tired spell, after all." Eve scooted back down some with Beverly's help.

"Well, now…" Beverly carried on the pretense, "if you're still feeling poorly in the morning we certainly _will_ call a doctor! I won't have _my_ Lady looking like death warmed over!"

"But I don't feel sick!" she insisted. "I just feel really, really…drowsy. Like I'm stuck between two worlds, a world of truth and a world of lies"

Beverly poured her a glass of tea and gave it to her, helping to steady her hands as she took the small cup.

"You've been dreaming?" she asked with marked interest.

"Yes!" Eve confirmed eagerly. "So, so much! Sometimes it's wonderful and then sometimes…" she broke off for a moment. "Sometimes it's horrible." she finished, a pained look in her distant eyes. "I don't even know which world is real anymore. I'm I awake here, talking to you? Or am I awake there, talking to her?"

"Her?" Beverly ventured carefully.

Eve's big eyes lifted quickly to hers. "The Lady." They filled with a mix of emotions only Eve could completely untangle. It was enough to tell Beverly what she needed to know.

It was working.

"Drink your tea, dear." she said, and helped the young girl steady the cup while she drank deeply from it.

"She's so beautiful…" she said dreamily, pushing the cup away.

Beverly set it on the tray. "This Lady?"

"Yes!" Eve stretched, yawning. "And she's so nice to me."

She looked into Beverly's eyes, her own quickly glazing over. "Do you think she's my mother, Miss Bishop?" she asked as they closed, too heavy now for the weak young girl to fight. "Do you…do you think…she's.….real?" The last was little more than a breath as she succumbed to sleep once again.

Beverly repositioned the small, limp body and tucked it in securely. She kissed the girls forehead. "Yes, Eve…She was very, very real. And she loved you very, very much." She leaned down, listening to Eve's heart beat slow down and then checking her shallow breath.

Beverly poured another cup of the tea and set it on the tray close to the bed. She lifted Eve's free hand and produced the dagger. With a set face she sliced the girls palm open and let the blood drip into the cup. Beverly watched as the dark red drops struck the amber tea and spread, turning it reddish-brown and staining the sides of the white teacup. She laid the girl's arm down, palm up and stirred the mixture with her finger.

Beverly removed the towel from her own hand and grasped Eve's in it, pressing the two cuts together, then drank the tea down in one, quick gulp. Kneeling over her she began…

"Mo cuimhne ambas mestas le mise,

Mo spiorad ambas mestas le mise…"

* * *

A portal of bright light appeared on a chimney atop the roof of Phantomhive Manor and a lithe, brightly garbed Grell stepped through into the dark, stormy night.

"Oh my!" he gasped dramatically, touching his chin and taking in the unusual, unnatural weather. "How horrible!"

Winds whipped about him from all sides while clouds rolled in the night sky like an angry pot boiling over. Lightning struck a tree in the distance, causing a short lived fire. The brief illumination of the sky from it gave one the impression that the clouds had drawn together, forming one big skull head.

"I didn't dress for rain at all."

He looked down as the sound of a quickly approaching carriage reached his ears and saw the Phantomhive barouche speeding toward him.

He threw his head back and struck a sensational pose, using what little moonlight that escaped the overcast sky to his advantage, thoroughly convinced an impressed Sebastian was watching from below.

"Good thing I'm even more fabulous wet than I am dry!" he said with a flourish, whipping out his custom death scythe.

Grell gracefully back flipped from his perch atop a large chimney and landed perfectly on the flat rooftop, swirling in the widely scattered rain drops like a ballerina and ending with a seductive pose, a big drop or two of rain water running down his face.

"My public awaits!" he sighed melodramatically, directing his attention to an upstairs window.

Suddenly a second portal opened near him and William T. Spears, supervisor of the Dispatch Management Division and Grell's direct superior, stepped out, looking around with disdain.

"William?" Grell said with surprise. "I thought you were finally taking a day off!"

"Yes, well," came the monotonous response, "so did I. Things change, unfortunately."

William looked down as the carriage finally reached the front of the manor and the two occupants raced out of it. He adjusted his spectacles with the blades of his pruner death scythe.

"I was called in to handle this particular harvest. I understand it's not of the usual variety, so…"

"Wait just one minute, Will! This is my assignment!" Grell whined shrilly.

"_Was_ your assignment." William corrected flatly. "These cases can be tricky to say the least, and the board wanted to make sure it was handled smoothly by someone with experience in these situations." Lowering his voice he added grumpily, "Heaven knows I'm not exactly thrilled about it either."

Rain suddenly began falling much harder and far heavier. William stuck his hand out, palm up. "Perfect." he said, as rain drops splattered his spectacles.

"But I've been looking forward to it all day!" Grell moaned, "and besides…" he leaned in to William and batted his eyes, glowing, "Bassy's here! How can I ever win his love if he never gets to see me at my best?" he asked, pouting pitifully. Suddenly jumping up he struck another spectacular pose using his scythe as a prop. "It's time he sees just how _deadly efficient_ I can be!" he asserted flamboyantly, emphasizing this with his trademark, three fingered hand gesture. Lightening seemed to frame him from behind while the wind gave a thrilling lift to his long, dark red hair, imparting an impressive flair to the overall picture.

Coming back to reality he realized William Spears had simply left him behind during his display and was climbing through the window.

"Oh!...Wait!...William?" he hurried off to catch up, finger raised and heels clicking lightly against the shingles.

* * *

Ciel and Sebastian burst through the front doors. They quickly scanned the large foyer.

Mey-Rin was standing at the foot of the Grand Staircase next to Tanaka. She looked decidedly fidgety. Tanaka looked…well…like Tanaka.

"Mey-Rin?" Sebastian asked, narrowing his eyes, "Where are the others?"

"Finney got caught in the rain so he's downstairs changing and Baldroy's running an errand for Miss Bishop." she half smiled and averted her gaze. "Me an' Tanaka are here, though…yes we are." he voice trailed off nervously.

"And Lizzie?" he prodded sharply.

"Oh! She and Miss Paula left for home just a few moments ago, yes they did. You didn't pass them on the way here?"

Ciel had seen a carriage on the main road but he had been too distracted to give it much thought at the time. _*Well, at least they are safe.*_ he thought with some relief.

"What of Karma and Miss Bishop?" Ciel demanded.

Her eyes snapped up for an instant. "Miss Bishop's with the Lady Karma in her room. My Lady's feeling poorly since they returned from town so she's fixed her some special tea, she has."

"I'll bet she has." Ciel frowned and swept past Mey-Rin, headed up the stairs. "Sebastian! Check on the others then meet me in Karma's room!"

"My Lord…" Sebastian raised a protest.

"Do I have to make that an order?" Ciel stopped and glared from the landing in front of the west wing.

"No, My Lord." the butler conceded as Ciel turned and continued down the long, shadowy hallway, lit up only by the occasional flash of lightening.

* * *

"Mo cuimhne ambas mestas le mise,

Mo spiorad ambas mestas le mise.

Mo fuil ambas mestas le mise.

Mo bás mar chúiteamh ar son do aiseag"

Beverly continued again and again, over and over while Eve seemed to become more agitated each time, her face drawing down into a frown and her eyes darting around nervously behind her eyelids.

*THUD!*

The sound of a body hitting the locked door behind them was unmistakable.

*BAM! BAM! BAM!*

A loud, demanding knock pounded indignantly.

"Why is this door locked!?" a muffled but clearly irate boy's voice challenged from the other side.

*BAM! BAM! BAM!*

"Open up, Miss Bishop…or whoever the hell you are! I am the Earl Phantomhive and this is _my_ home! I will not be barred from any part of it!"

*BAM! BAM! BAM!*

"Karma!" he called out.

Beverly opened her eyes and smiled softly at the unconscious girl before her.

"I'm afraid, my dear, we have just run out of time together, you and I." she sighed and patted Eve's hand.

She looked to the window ahead of her and her eyes glowed fiercely. Her hair turned from mousey brown to jet black and her teeth sharpened into points as she grimaced, leathery wings bursting from her shoulder blades.

* * *

Outside the door an enraged Ciel was flushed and fed up. He didn't immediately see the two reapers approaching him from further down the hall.

"Open up, I say!" he barked and began kicking the door in frustration.

"My, my" Grell's honeyed voice cut in. "I wouldn't open the door for you either, with those horrid manners."

Ciel spun to confront the irritating reaper and caught sight of his straight-laced boss standing severely beside him.

"I take it the subject in question is in there?" he asked flatly.

"Wait!" Ciel ordered, "She doesn't even know who she is…you can't do this yet! How will you be able to judge a blank record?" he reasoned.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Ciel Phantomhive." William frowned, "But you are in the way at present and I will have to ask you to move aside."

"I won't." Ciel glared defiantly.

Without warning and so fast it was almost imperceptible, William's scythe zinged past the young lord, hitting the door knob and cleanly severing it.

The bedroom door creaked open and the three looked in. There, kneeling on the floor next to a small girl in an oversized bed, was "Miss Bishop", although she looked nothing like the Miss Bishop Ciel had come to know over the last two days.

Her jet black hair fell loosely to the floor and pooled in a heap behind her and she folded two enormous bat wings protectively over the child. Her large feet had torn her shoes open as though they had simply burst through them and there were long, nasty looking black claws on each toe. She turned her head slowly to eye the intruders and smiled, sharp teeth lining her wide mouth.

"I think we're a tad early, yet." Grell said uncomfortably, stepping behind William and holding his right upper arm. "She doesn't look dead at all."

"Ahem" William cleared his throat, never losing his professional demeanor. "Miss Beverly Walsh," he stated with authority. "I am William T. Spears, director of the Dispatch Management Division for the English branch of the AGR, the Association of Grim Reapers." He pushed his glasses up, more out of force of habit than necessity. "I have been sent to harvest your soul tonight. I understand you've made this arrangement yourself?"

"I have." the Nephilim answered in an unfamiliar, guttural voice.

"Wait!" Ciel broke in. "You're not here for Karma?"

"Who's Karma?" William raised an eyebrow, looking about the room.

"I think he's referring to the girl there, Will." Grell nodded in the direction of the bed, not letting go of his arm.

"Eve?" he asked Ciel, betraying slight confusion. "No, of course not…she still has some time left yet."

Ciel looked from Beverly to "Eve" and back to Beverly.

"Who are you?!" he demanded. "And what do you want with her?"

"I am nobody, My Lord." she laughed. "Like the rest of my kind I am a mere shadow of this world, charged with protecting the chosen and helping to maintain the natural balance between light and dark."

"You're a Nephilim, aren't you?" he said, watching her closely.

"You've been doing your homework, I see." She replied

"You killed the demon, the real Miss Bishop, and took her place here to be near Eve."

"I had her killed, yes." she confirmed. "I had heard you were keeping Eve safe here, and at first it seemed like the ideal place for her to recover, being as this place is more of a fortress than a manor." Her eyes hardened as she locked them onto Ciel. "Imagine my surprise to find that some time ago you had contracted with a demon…the very thing we were trying to keep her hidden from was living right under the same roof with her."

"She's been here for nearly three weeks now! Why wait? If she was in so much danger, why come now after all that time? Why not retrieve her as soon as you knew the situation?" Ciel inquired, contempt lacing his words.

"A colleague kept us apprised of her progress and determined the risk in leaving her here, weighing the options and choosing the best path to take at any given moment. Ironically enough," Beverly sneered, "the memory loss actually worked to protect her from detection by your butler. So long as she was still unable to recall her true nature, she was relatively safe."

"But something changed." Ciel prodded.

"Yes," she hissed. "Jessica Bishop knew of the girl and wanted to take advantage of her weakened state to eliminate the threat she represented. She was on probation at the agency you went through to hire her when your request came through for a lady's maid. Too many unfortunate coincidences in her work history for the agency to totally ignore, it would seem. She saw her chance and convinced the manager there to give her the job." she smiled. "I couldn't have that, now could I?"

"So what are you trying to accomplish here now?" he interrogated, nodding at Eve asleep on the bed.

"Sometimes one has to be swallowed up by the darkest abyss in order to find the light that will lead them home." Beverly answered vaguely. "I cannot protect her forever, and an even more deadly threat is circling her at this very moment, waiting for the chance to devour her." For a brief moment the creature's hard eyes softened, giving her an unnerving appearance of human sadness. "She must return to us, whole once again. She must continue her fight! _That_ is what I'm trying to accomplish here."

William looked at his watch and readied his scythe, the shears on the end snapping open. Grell gave him a concerned glance and drew in closer, stepping a bit further behind him.

"Do you mind?" William asked in a low, exasperated voice while trying to maintain an unobtrusive presence.

"The preparations are complete." she continued, glancing out the bedroom window through the corners of her eyes. "The charge is set. All that's left is to light the fuse."

With that she lunged forward without warning, snatching Ciel up by the neck in her large, freakishly strong hands and pinning him to the wall.

"Now!" she growled, "Let's have a look at your shame, shall we?"

Everything happened so fast one would have wondered if it had happened at all were it not for the evidence left behind in the aftermath.

Beverly snatched at Ciel's eyepatch, ripping it off as he gasped for air, kicking at her and trying desperately to free himself.

"Well, boy!" she laughed. "Save yourself, if you dare! Or will tonight be the night your weary heart finally gives in to the peace only the dead can know?"

Even though fighting for his life her words struck a sensitive chord. Ciel's face changed from deep red to an ugly purple as he mouthed words no ear could hear. His right eye bulged while his left eye lit up, the contract seal glowing in the dim light of the room.

"Sebastian!" he finally choked out in a raspy squeak, unable to be more specific than the single name.

Immediately the bedroom window shattered inward as the demon crashed through it, landing effortlessly in the center of the room. At the same time he drew a handful of kitchen knives and fluidly released them in one smooth motion, burying several in Beverly's back. One key projectile lodged in the back of her head.

Ciel saw her face flinch and she seemed to smile. Her grip loosened slowly as they both sank to the floor.

"Master!" Sebastian called, leaping over the bed and snatching him up. He set the boy to the side and turned his attention back to the dying Nephilim.

"What have you done, you old fool!" he spat, seeing the satisfaction in her eyes.

Beverly managed to laugh just a bit, then gave him a triumphant, piercing leer. "You should have killed her when you had the chance, demon." she breathed. "Veronika may be a filthy devil too, but she was right about one thing…your devotion to that boy will be the death of you!"

Sebastian snarled at her. Reaching behind her head he grabbed the protruding knife and twisted it. Her body jerked spasmodically for a moment, then went completely limp.

At that moment a dog howled miserably in the distance.

The bed behind him began to shake violently and Sebastian removed the blade from Beverly's head. He turned to see Eve going into some sort of fit, her entire body flopping uncontrollably on the bed. His eyes glazed over as he began to approach her.

William began methodically collecting Beverly's cinematic record, unconcerned about the rest of the world around him, while Grell watched him, fascinated at witnessing his first Nephilim harvest.

Ciel sat up on the ground where he had collapsed, coughing and rubbing his bruised neck. His eyes widened as Sebastian reached the bed. Horrified, he watched helplessly as the butler raised the knife over his head, poised to strike the girl down.

* * *

Veronica answered the front door. The doorbell ringing at this hour was odd enough, but finding an envelope in the mail slot after post hours was even odder still. She took it inside and wondered for a moment who it could be from. Her name was scrawled on the front in very elegant handwriting. Flipping it over she saw a red wax seal bearing the image of twin eagles behind a shield. "Potentia Regere" the banner below them read…"The Power to Rule".

Veronica smiled to herself. She had a good guess whose house that crest would belong to.

* * *

_*Author's notes ~ _

Triquetra: A triangular knotted Celtic symbol that has been used by Christians in the 19th century as a sign of the Trinity (Father, Son and Holy Spirit)

Ruis: Celtic symbol for the Elder tree, known for its healing power and representing death, cycles, rebirth, renewal, creativity, regeneration, and transformation.

Irish Gaelic translations:

a) Mo = my

b) Cuimhne = memory

c) Spiorad = spirit

d) Fuil = blood

e) Ambas mestas = confluence

f) Le = with

g) Mise = yours

h) Bás = death

i) mar chúiteamh = in exchange

j) Ar son = for

k) Do = your

l) Aiseag = restoration

m) Bíodh sé amhlaidh = So be it


	11. Part 11: His Butler: Obedient

**_"Death is No Respecter of Demons"_**

**_Part: 11  
"His Butler: Obedient "_**

As Eve floated weightlessly through the blank corridors of her mind she became acutely aware of something. She was not alone in here.

"Hello?" she called, her words echoing loudly.

She found her feet suddenly under her, firmly on the white tiled floor. The room she was standing in was empty and sterile, as though it had never seen the first occupant…never known the first speck of life.

"Remember." A familiar voice urged, a haunting current of the thin air caused Eve's hair to stir.

Eve turned in time to see a shadow disappear around the corner of a long, white passage leading out of the room.

_*Miss Bishop? No, not Miss Bishop. Then who?*_

Eve was surprised to find she had always somehow known the nanny to be something other than what she appeared to be. She had known, but had not concerned herself with it. _*Why, I wonder?*_

She quickly took off after her.

"Wait! Come back!" Eve besought the woman.

Rounding the corner she entered a common room and was faced with many identical hallways just like the one she had come from, all of them tapering off into the distance with no identifiable traits whatsoever. And the shadow was nowhere to be found.

Eve thought for a moment then felt her pocket. There was a small piece of charcoal hidden inside. _*Has that always been there?* _she wondered for just a second before choosing the most immediate hall to her right. As she began down it she marked the wall with a big, black X.

"I suppose I will start on the right." she sighed.

She traveled for what seemed like hours, though in reality she felt that time had very little meaning here. Eventually, she saw the hall let out into another common room and hurried to it.

She couldn't believe her eyes! She was back in the same room she had just left, looking at the same maze of corridors! Except now every one of them was marked with a big black X.

"That's not fair!" Eve shouted indignantly to empty space, deciding this had to be the work of some unseen tormenter. No answer.

"Remember." the voice returned. Its soft call seemed to be coming from the hallway directly in front of her.

"I've been trying to remember!" Eve called back, frustrated.

But had she really? Eve frowned as her own mind reprimanded her, forcing her to re-examine the last few weeks. Or had she simply been content to be safe and among real people once again?

She looked indecisively down the hall before her.

_*What if remembering is worse than not knowing?* _she turned the thought over in her mind, aware of her own confused rationality for the first time. _*What if what I find out is something I didn't really want to know at all? If I choose to go forward, I can never go back.*_

No! This wasn't her! She wasn't this scared child trembling in anticipation of the unknown! That wasn't who she was at all!

_*Then who am I?* _her gaze fixed upon the unseen end of the impossibly long hall, her eyes transformed from uncertainty to resolve.

She didn't step timidly into the hall. She ran to into it, but the faster she ran the longer the corridor seemed to get!

"Mo cuimhne ambas mestas le mise,

Mo spiorad ambas mestas le mise.

Mo fuil ambas mestas le mise.

Mo bás mar chúiteamh ar son do aiseag"

The words came from all around her and Eve thought she recognized the woman who spoke them. _*Miss Bishop!*_ she thought, never slowing down. _*No! That's not right…*_

"Beverly!" Eve called aloud, running even faster. "Beverly, I'm here!"

"Mo cuimhne ambas mestas le mise,

Mo spiorad ambas mestas le mise.

Mo fuil ambas mestas le mise.

Mo bás mar chúiteamh ar son do aiseag" was the only reply.

"Open up, I say!" another voice demanded…seeming to originate from far away.

_*Ciel?*_ Eve puzzled.

The hall never seemed to stop growing and Eve never stopped racing toward the end. The white corridor began shifting and twisting, as if the walls and the floor itself wanted her to fall…wanted her to fail. It turned dark and foreboding, but now Eve could see the faintest light up ahead, and she skillfully rolled, jumped and dodged through it as the walls tried to block her from advancing further.

"Who are you?!" she could hear Ciel demanding now. "And what do you want with her?"

"I am nobody, My Lord." came Beverly's response. "Like the rest of my kind I am a mere shadow of this world, charged with protecting…"

The rest was lost as an enormous gale rushed down the hall, slowing Eve down and pushing back against her. She threw her arms up over her face as bits of debris followed in the wind and plodded forward, her movement like one caught in quicksand. Her body grew tired with the strain but she didn't stop…she wouldn't stop.

The light ahead was taking shape now, she could almost make it out…

"She must return to us, whole once again. She must continue her fight!" Beverly said with passion. The sound of her voice brought back a rush of emotions Eve had forgotten she even had.

Her face set even harder and she reached ahead of her with one arm, as if the outstretched limb would somehow cut a path through this storm.

"Hang on, Bev! I'm coming! Don't leave!" Eve shouted.

_*It's a door!* _she realized excitedly, stretching even further forward.

A commotion resounded around her.

"Save yourself, if you dare! Or will tonight be the night your weary heart finally gives in to the peace only the dead can know?" the challenge came from nowhere and everywhere.

_*Are you sure you want to know, Eve?*_ the thought whispered in her ear.

Without warning the wind vanished, the howling of it ceased and the door rushed forward, stopping just in front of her face. Eve heard only one word in the sudden deafening silence…

"Sebastian!"

She burst through the door, the light she had seen escaping from the cracks now within her reach. As she was engulfed by the blinding radiance beyond, she knew she would never see Beverly again.

* * *

Eve's small body convulsed on the bed for just a moment and then went completely ridged.

Ciel stood up and glared at Sebastian standing over her.

"You won't end her!" Lord Phantomhive commanded as he found his voice, causing the demon to spin around to face him, daggers in his eyes.

"You know what she is" he said with deadly quiet. "and yet you ask me to spare her?"

"I'm not asking you to do anything." Ciel stated plainly. "I'm ordering you."

Sebastian straightened and peered menacingly down at the boy.

"Consider your words carefully, Young Master." he advised. "Are you certain this is what you truly want?"

Ciel knew there was something more behind the demon's words, but at the moment he didn't dare show any signs of weakness or indecisiveness.

"There's only one thing I want to hear from you." He said coldly, daring to be defied.

The corner of Sebastian's mouth twisted into a sly smirk. He placed his hand over his heart and bowed.

"Yes, My Lord."

* * *

_*Where am I?* _Eve groaned, holding her head.

"Mattie, meet Eve." A feminine voice greeted her.

_*That voice…I know that voice*_ Eve opened her eyes and the room around her was softly glowing, as if she were walking through an overexposed photograph.

_*Who's Mattie and Eve?* _She wondered confused as she felt a warm hand tighten around hers. The hand was soft but firm, keeping her nearby. It was slender but it somehow seemed so big in comparison to her own.

_*That can't be my hand she's holding.* _Eve puzzled. _*It's so small!*_

"She'll be staying here with us for a while."

In fact, the whole room seemed too large. Even the two women talking to one another towered over her. _*Am I Alice, then? Did I come through the looking glass?* _The notion struck her as insane and she giggled at herself.

"Well aren't you going to say 'Hello' to Miss Mattie?" The lady holding her hand stooped down so they were face to face and smiled. It was a warm smile. A smile…*static*…a smile…*static*…she has seen…*static*… before…*static*…

Eve shook her head as the scene before her seemed to fluctuate and fade.

_*She's so pretty!* _Eve thought as the image cleared and she was once again looking into those big, soft pink eyes. _*Like an angel.*_ She had never seen pink eyes before! _*She must be the white rabbit, then!* _Eve smiled.

Her hair was certainly light enough to pass for white, although Eve suspected the unusual light in this place had something to do with that. She reached out with her free hand and touched a pale ringlet that had escaped from the nice lady's hair pins. _*I want hair like hers when I grow up.*_ she sighed, admiring the way it was swept up into a carefully designed French braid. A flat, satin hat sat on top of it, stylishly tipped to one side…*static*…

She seemed very elegant, indeed.

"Hello, Eve!" the other lady, Mattie, said bending down. She had a funny thick accent and wore a maid's uniform. Her eyes were dark brown and reminded Eve of rich chocolate!

"Why, look at you! Aren't you a pretty little flower!" she exclaimed in a state of exaggerated disbelief, touching the side of Eve's face. "Well, leave it to My Lady…*static*…find the…*static*…pretties…*static*…in the flower garden!" Mattie clapped her hands together with delight for emphasis.

Eve shook her head again, feeling a bit dizzy and disoriented. _*What's happening?* _She swayed on her feet and closed her eyes as the room seemed to fade in and out, a scratchy flicker accompanied each uncomfortable shift.

"Eve?" The pretty lady cradled her chin in her hand and steadied her. "What is it?" she asked, worry in her voice.

_*I'm Karma* _her mind tried desperately to speak aloud…*static*…*static*…_*what is that?*_

"Eve, sweetie, are you alright? Look at me" She felt the hand tilt her head up.

Eve opened her eyes and saw…*static*…the lady's concerned face lean closer. Her necklace slipped out from under her bodice and its triskelion pendant _*I know that pendant!*_ spun around crazily, revolving one way first, then the other. It mesmerized her.

A series of terrifying and disjointed images suddenly assaulted her senses as she felt her body grow weak, falling to her knees.

"Is she all right, Miss?" Mattie fretted. "Should I call the doctor?"

"I think she's just exhausted." the Lady sighed. "You must have noticed her arms and legs?"

"Yes! The poor thing! How can people be so cruel? And to a child!"

"She's been through so much, Mattie…so very much."

Eve could still hear the two women talking, but it seemed so, so far away.

The pendant continued to dance before her.

First it spun one way…*static*… and Eve saw Mattie's kind face, smiling at her cheerfully.

Then it stopped and spun the other way…*static*…*static*… turning the happy vision to a horrific one of Mattie's dead eyes staring blindly at the ceiling, her face streaked with blood…*static*

"I'll go run a hot bath and have Cook put some warm milk and honey on." The voices continued, apparently unaware of the young girl's distress.

"Thank you, Mattie! I knew you'd be good for her!"

"I did well enough with you, I dare say!"

Spinning one way…*static*… she could see the sun and hear silly, infectious laughter outside the manor…

Then it spun the other…*static* …changing the sun into stormy darkness and the laughter into screams of terror echoing inside the manor…*static*

"Hey, can you walk?" The Lady's comforting voice seeped through the chaos.

_"__Run, Eve!"_ Yes, that's the same voice! Only filled with fear and desperation!

"Eve?" She beckoned, again comforting and attentive.

One way…

Windows crashed…_"__EVE!"_

Then the other…

The echo of fierce fighting filled the air…_"__Find her, Phoenix! GO!"_…*static* …*static*

"It's ok, I'll carry you." The Lady's was saying from the room of light. "Let's go get you cleaned up. Mattie draws the best baths!" _*I like it here best…can't I just stay here?*_ Eve thought wistfully as she felt her body lifted.

As life revolves one way…

_"__You listen to what Ol' Otter says, little miss. You mind Lady Karma, hear?"_ A smiling Irishman's face beamed down at her as he chewed a blade of grass and brushed down a pretty grey mare. _"__She's a true soul, that one. Known her all her life"_ He puffed up proudly, as if he were talking about his own daughter, not his employer.

It returns to the start…

Eve was running through the dim stables, looking wildly around for any sign of the caretaker she had grown to love like a father. _"__Otter!?" _The shrill, whinnying of panicked horses pierced the air. _"__Otter! Where are you?"_

In the stall at the end…that's where she found the dead Irishman's eyes, his face contorted in pain. She felt a scream escape her lips into the dark night, but she couldn't seem to hear it.

"There we are" Eve felt the warmth of the water as she was carefully lowered into the tub. "Mattie hand me the soap, please."

"Here you are, Lady."

One way…

Eve dashed outside into the middle of the carnage and desperately called out, _"__Karma!" _

She fell in a heap as a vicious, hellish monster swooped down and slammed its clawed feet into the ground in front of her. It turned its wicked head and let out a deafening roar at her, sharp fangs dripping with saliva in a mouth that looked much too large for its head.

Eve screamed again, this time her voice pierced the night.

Then the other…

The demon lunged and Eve was swept up into the sky, safe in the arms of a dark haired man with wings.

_"__Got you!"_ he said, taking her higher still.

The Lady sang softly while she washed the caked dirt and grime off Eve's arms, being careful not to press too hard around the bruised areas.

"Sleep my child and peace attend thee,  
All through the night  
Guardian angels God will send thee,  
All through the night"

One…way…

Eve gripped his neck tight, feeling the tears sting the scratches on her cheeks as the wind swept them from her eyes.

"Soft the drowsy hours are creeping  
Hill and vale in slumber sleeping,  
I my loving vigil keeping  
All through the night."

_*But these aren't angel's wings.* _she thought._ *These are the wings of a devil*._

"While the moon her watch is keeping  
All through the night  
While the weary world is sleeping  
All through the night"

Such fierce red eyes. _*I should be afraid of him.* _she thought as she watched him concentrating on the chaos around them, searching the ground below.

"O'er thy spirit gently stealing  
Visions of delight revealing  
Breathes a pure and holy feeling  
All through the night."

Then…then the other…

_"__KARMA!" _His voice…it had been so full of anguish…*static* _"__I'm gonna get you outta here, just hang on!"_

Eve saw him rush to a woman's side and attempt to pick her up. _*I never knew devils could cry.* _she watched silently.

Her vision blurred and it dawned on Eve that she was crying too.

_"__No! Please! Take Eve!" _she heard the woman saying.

"Love, to thee my thoughts are turning  
All through the night  
All for thee my heart is yearning,  
All through the night."

First one…

_*I cried so many tears that night.* _Eve recalled as the scene unfolded before her in all its bloody horror.

_*She was lying right in front of me but I couldn't see her clearly.* _…*static* …

_*Her words to me…* _she remembered, angry at herself. _*How could I have ever forgotten those words!*_

_"__You should have been my little girl, Eve…always, my little girl…." _

_* I want to see her!* _Eve tried to wipe her eyes dry and throw his strong arms off of her as he suddenly snatched her away…*static*…*static*…..*static* …..

"Though sad fate our lives may sever  
Parting will not last forever,  
There's a hope that leaves me never,"

The pendant suddenly swung around, as if in slow motion, and caught the light as the chain snapped.

Then….*static* …and then…the other….…

_"__Phoenix…keep her safe…for me."_….*static* ….

A loud clatter echoed in Eve's heart as it struck the floor, spinning in place before coming to rest in a pool of blood…

"All through the night."

…*static * …*static*…

* * *

"Hold her down, Finny!" Baldroy barked. "Karma! Wake up!"

Eve's head whipped back and forth as she lashed out with her hands and feet, her voice hoarse from screaming.

"Jesus Christ!" Baldroy slapped her face hard.

"Baldroy!" Mey –Rin yelled, horrified.

"What else do you want me to do?!" he countered, frustration taking its toll. "She ain't respondin', Mey!"

"Fine! But if she's gotta get struck better let me be the one to do it! You'll break her jaw, yes you will!"

Sebastian finally entered the room again, shooing Baldroy and Mey-Rin out of the way. He had called them up to remove the dead nanny's body. He didn't like the idea of leaving the three of them in charge while he and Ciel discussed their options privately, but it was a necessary concession considering the circumstances.

"She's been at it since you left!" Finnian told him as he sat down on the bed next to her and checked her pulse, with no little difficulty.

"She doesn't seem to be in any real physical danger, but I have seen a case similar to this before." Sebastian stated, looking to the bedroom door where his master was standing out of the way and watching him like a hawk.

Ciel turned his attention to Eve with a look of distant recollection. He seemed to be sharing her terror, only through his own dark memories.

"Young Master." Sebastian said firmly, his voice forcing Ciel to look at him instead. "Would you please clear the room for me?"

"Everyone, get out." Ciel ordered. "There's nothing any of you can do here at the moment. Best to try and get some rest, there's only a few hours till daylight." He corralled them all to the door and sighed as worried faces continued to peek over his shoulder at the distressing scene playing out behind him.

"I'm sure she will be just fine." he added, addressing their concern. "Sebastian will take care of it. He always takes care of these things." That seemed to reassure the group a bit. It was true; if anyone could "fix it", it would be their impossibly competent head butler.

As they filed out into the hallway, Sebastian lifted Eve up and removed the pillows from under her. Lying her down flat he addressed Ciel once again, "Close the door behind you when you leave, My Lord. If you don't mind."

Ciel frowned at him. Sebastian knew what he was doing. To that he could testify. But recent events made him question the demon's judgement when it came to Eve.

"Fine." he conceded. "But Sebastian," he said with deliberate care. "I expect to find her fully recovered. That's an order. Do you understand?"

"Of course, My Lord. As you wish." he confirmed.

Ciel shut the door and joined the other's just outside.

In the hall, Mey-Rin fidgeted nervously with the hem of her night gown.

_*Why is she so agitated, I wonder.* _

As if feeling the Master's scrutiny, Mey-Rin stammered, "I…I'm gonna go make Lady Karma a nice cup of hot chocolate for when she wakes up, yes I am!" and she hurried down the hall toward the kitchen.

* * *

In Eve's bedroom Sebastian was calmly watching her moan and twist deliriously beneath him. Whatever she was seeing, it was traumatic enough to cause her to experience a rather wicked night terror. "Most likely a secondary symptom or complication related to some type of post-traumatic stress disorder." he reasoned with the reserve and detachment of a medical professional.

"Well, let's see what we can do for you then, shall we, My Lady?" he said pleasantly, reaching to touch her forehead.

Feeling a sudden, uncomfortable vibration he pulled back, a frown creasing his brow. Looking crossly at his hand he removed his glove. The contract seal was emitting a faint glow that ebbed and waned, dependent on his direct proximity. He glanced at the troubled girl in front of him with a little irritation. "Really, My Lady, we are going to have to do something about that." he sighed, reaching for her again. "I can't have you giving me away every time…." he broke off. A faint glow, one definitely not originating from _his_ body, caught his eye.

He lifted her right arm and placed her hand over his thoughtfully. Her hand laid above and next to his now so his seal could be seen beneath her own. His, a purple pentagram with the word "Tetragrammaton" (from the Greek τετραγράμματον) encircling it, meant "four letters" and was used in ancient times to represent the Jewish holy name of God, YHWH while hers was a white Celtic cross with Δανιήλ (the Greek form of the name Daniel, which means "God is my judge"), evenly spaced around it. Unlike Sebastian's seal, hers was not visible unless in the vicinity of, well, a demon.

_*She's so very young to be walking this dark world without her mentor_._*_ he thought as he straightened her out. _*What could have happened, I wonder.*_ Observing her struggling with unknown horrors he brushed her hair from her face gingerly. _*What do you see in the darkness that binds you, My Lady?*_

His eyes glowed and the irises narrowed into slits. He leaned into her and touched her face. In that instant even he didn't know what he was going to do. The demon in him demanded her blood. The narcissist in him demanded her soul. But the servant in him demanded complete obedience to his master.

After a tense moment he placed his hand over her eyes, reaching down into her consciousness, and plucked her out of the abyss she couldn't seem to cross on her own.

"Karma…" he repeated softly, until he was certain she was coming round. He had decided to continue using her assumed name, not wanting to reveal anything to her that she wasn't now aware of.

Her breathing slowly normalized and her pulse became less erratic. Her body seemed to go completely limp, exhausted after having spent such a long tense, time engaged in battling illusions. She slowly opened her eyes.

"There you are." Sebastian smiled as though everything was normal. "Welcome back, My Lady."

Her eyes darted around the dark room before coming to rest on Sebastian's familiar face. She just stared at him for a moment, trying to determine if he was real or if she was entering another chapter of that horrible _*vision?* *memory?* _nightmare.

"I believe I heard Mey-Rin saying something about bringing you a nice cup of hot chocolate." he made polite conversation while straightening her bedspread, trying to assure her through his tone and actions she was secure in her room.

"Would you like me to hurry her along?" he pulled the covers up over her. "I imagine that would hit the spot right about n…..oof!"

Karma shot up and clung to his neck, knocking the breath out of him. Huge tears rolled down her pale cheeks and her entire body trembled with relief.

"You came for me!" she cried softly in his ear. "Thank you! I was so, so scared!"

Sebastian sat there, stunned at the outburst and totally at a loss for an instant. Coming back to himself he held her and patted her on the back, as humans comforting one another were sometimes seen doing…or so he understood.

"There now." he played his part, somewhat relieved that she still seemed to be ignorant of herself…and yet strangely more than a little disappointed. "Everything is alright, now. You're safe."

Eve held him tight and made every attempt to appear as weak and pitiful as she could possibly manage. He mustn't suspect she had uncovered anything more than a few isolated and insignificant memories. She must hide her knowledge until the time was right. Until she was properly prepared and at her full strength.

_*Besides*_, she opened her eyes and looked over his shoulder into the mirror behind them. No tears shone from them now, only resolve. _*I must speak to Ciel, first.*_

_*No*_, she smiled at the girl looking back at her. _*No more tears, now. I am Eve. I am the legacy of my Mistress…I am the heir to her Birthright.* _

* * *

Authors note:

This was a dream sequence (my first attempt at one, as well) and it was quite hard for me to write and manage to keep it understandable, so forgive me if anyone found it too confusing. Some of the formatting would not make the cross over from Word to this website, so I hope that did not make it too difficult to read.

Thank you for viewing this latest chapter :)

~ CandaceLee 3


	12. Part 12 His Butler: Skeptical

"I still don't think it's right." Finnian protested as he shoveled more dirt into the offensive hole. He could no longer see the makeshift casket they had thrown together from old boards and bits of rope at the bottom.

"If Mr. Sebastian and the Young Master say to do it, we do it, yeah?" Baldroy grunted, lifting his own shovel-full and tossing it in. "You know that."

Finnian looked down with a certain resignation, but the matter still bothered him all the same. That was plain enough to see by the worried expression in his eyes.

"Besides," Baldroy continued, stopping to lean on his shovel, "I'm sure there's a perfectly good reason for it. You don't think the Young Master would do anything dishonorable, especially in his own back yard, do ya?"

Finnian looked up at the older man, his brows furrowed defensively. "No, of course not!" He scratched his head and peered back into the cold grave. "But not even a priest…" his voice trailed off.

"She's dead Finny," Baldroy said a bit irritably, returning to burying the nanny. "Not possessed." He immediately regretted it as the sensitive young boy seemed to literally wither at the reminder. He stopped once more and sighed, smoothing the edge out of his tone. "Look, if you want we can be her priests, eh?"

Finnian looked back at him with guarded interest. "Yeah?"

"Sure!" Baldroy said, lighting a cigarette. "Why not? We can be as respectful and holy as the next bloke, right?"

Baldroy noted the boy watching him indignantly, as though he were a hopeless case, "What?" he asked, cigarette hanging from his lips.

Finnian sighed and approached the edge of the grave. He took off his hat and looked somberly into the darkness. "I didn't really know Miss Bishop well…or at all," he added after a thought. "but she took care of Lady Karma and she was always in a cheerful mood. She seemed like a first rate nanny to me, and I just wanna say that…well…if anyone deserves to go to the big manor in the sky it's Miss Bishop." He finished awkwardly.

Baldroy rolled his eyes as Finnian plucked a wildflower and tossed it in.

"Amen." He said, hurrying things along and hoping he would be allowed to finish the job before the rain returned. He attempted to cross himself and picked up his shovel.

"Wait!" Finnian exclaimed. "You haven't said anything!"

"Finny, I didn't know the woman." He said as patiently as he could. "What am I supposed to say?"

"I dunno…" Finnian answered. "Just say something nice, I guess…like I did."

"Fine…" Baldroy grumbled and dropped the shovel, coming to stand in front of Beverly's final resting place.

*Ahem* he cleared his throat and after a moment remembered to toss his cigarette away.

"Miss Bishop wasn't with us long," he said loudly to the sky, "but she was like family to us…" he raised an eyebrow at himself and glanced at Finnian from the corner of his eye. A fat tear rolled down the boy's face and Baldroy groaned inwardly. _*Oh, for the love of…* _

"She was a right nice lady, from what I could tell," he continued. "and she always seemed to have a kind word for those around her."

*sniff, sniff*

"I remember the way she used to make Lady Karma her special, secret tea" his voice began to quiver as he heard Finnian sniffing off to the side. "and how she would tell us what her papa would…what her papa would…" Baldroy, unwillingly caught up in Finnian's emotional tizzy, sank to his knees and started to bawl like a baby.

"Poor Miss Bishop!" he sobbed. Finnian joined him, and the two sat in a pile of moist, loose dirt sounding very much like a couple of drunken banshees.

* * *

Atop a small hill and hidden behind the surrounding trees, Oculus and Vigil watched the two house servants and the spectacle unfolding before them. They looked at each other with a strange mixture of grief and utter confusion.

Shaking his head, Oculus was the first to speak, keeping his voice down.

"I shoulda known summit was up!" he swore angrily, **"**Valerian don't even grow in the fall!"

"She didn't even say goodbye." Vigil sniffed quietly, his eyes watering up.

"Don't you start, too." Oculus barked, crossing his arms. "What's done is done. Ain't no use cryin' over it now."

"I'm not crying!" Vigil objected, wiping his nose with his arm. "Allergies."

"Whatever."

"Oculus…if Bev's down there, who's watching Eve?" Vigil asked.

Oculus' eyes got huge and he snatched Vigil by the hand.

"Com'on!" he snapped and they ran toward the manor, merging into Ghost, just as the rain let loose.

* * *

"My…what a dreary country, England is." Nate sighed as the rain began anew, pelting his large, black umbrella rhythmically. "Why anyone would willingly subject themselves to such abysmal conditions is beyond me." he mused, trying to make himself as small as possible beneath it. The wind was determined to foil his best efforts and continued to assault him, sweeping random droplets under the limited covering.

An exceedingly dapper man, Nathaniel Doyle held little love for nature's more uncouth geological processes. Especially those that had a tendency to include him in their unsightly wakes…like rain. He grimaced as a carriage trundled past him on the dark London street, spraying his highly polished boots with puddle water and bits of horse dung.

Before he could utter a few well-chosen but vulgar words to the careless driver, it pulled to the side and stopped. The door opened and a long, pale finger emerged, beckoning Nate to enter. He stepped up and peered inside.

"You know, if I didn't know better I would have said you arranged this little welcome especially for me." He smirked, gesturing to the oppressive, gloomy atmosphere.

"Heh, Heh, Heh" Green eyes glowed from the darkness within the cab as the Undertaker's form emerged, illuminated by the cold light of the moon. An inhuman grin split his ashen face.

"I was wondering what it would take to drag your worthless hide back into my jurisdiction." His smile widened further still, putting Nate in mind of one of those ridiculous monkey toys that banged a set of cymbals together when wound up tight.

He chuckled to himself at the comparison and directed the cabby to his large trunk, which had been sitting off to one side, before climbing in. He sat across from the Undertaker and was suddenly flooded with memories as he studied the familiar face.

"Well, you know how it is for those of us who choose to live outside our prescribed lot in life." he answered with a smile, enjoying the simple banter of two old friends reunited after years of separation.

_*It really has been too long.*_ he thought, the pang of lost time poking him sharply in the chest. He tried to recall the last time he had spoken face to face with the Undertaker. _*My! It has to have been some fifteen…no, twenty years at least!*_ he calculated, startled at the passage of time. _*Why, Karma was no more than a sixteen year old child when he helped me smuggle her out of London all those years ago.*_

As if reading his mind the Undertaker leaned toward Nate, his cat-like, chartreuse eyes peeped out from beneath unkempt grey bangs and reflected Nate's own uniquely characteristic Reaper eyes perfectly.

"And here you are in spite of it all, eh? Like a mouse following the hypnotic tune of the Pied Piper…" he mimed a boy playing a flute to emphasize his statement.

"Is she really here?" Nate asked earnestly, ignoring his friend's playful teasing.

The Undertaker sat back and eyed him with amusement. "We have much to discuss, you and I." he said with a flair of the dramatic.

"…Do you smell horse shit?" he asked abruptly as the carriage jolted forward and rambled down the lantern lit roads.

* * *

Ghost entered the dimly lit bedroom with caution, uncertain what he would find inside. To the left he saw Eve's bed, and next to that a large red stain that smelled strongly of old pennies and sea salt…the distinctive bouquet of fresh blood. Directly ahead was a large bedroom window, the heavy curtain rising and falling slightly with a breeze that was now able to infiltrate the room through a hole where the glass should have been.

And to the right three figures were silhouetted by the warm glow of a freshly stoked fireplace. Two sat in chairs across from one another situated around a small, ornate table while one hovered close by and to the side of the rightmost figure. Although this person's back was to the dog it was easy enough to ascertain his identity by his small frame, in marked contrast to his tall shadow. Ciel Phantomhive was not easily mistaken for anyone other than Ciel Phantomhive.

The second of the two seated figures was on the left side of the table, her tear stained face was softly lit by the flickering flames of the fire. She was hugging her knees and wrapped in a blanket, staring into space as the Earl tried to comfort her with his very best empathetic voice…a skill he sorely needed to improve upon.

Eve noticed the Great Dane almost immediately and rushed to him, dropping to her knees and hugging the dog's neck as if he were in danger of floating away.

"Ghost!" she exclaimed, squeezing tighter. "Where have you been?" She buried her face in his broad neck and spoke to him, her words muffled to everyone but the dog. "I'm so relieved to see you both! I've missed you terribly…"

At this Ghost whipped his tail up and down, making a loud slapping sound on the floor each time it struck it. She remembered.

Eve pulled away and looked him in the eyes, trying to assure him everything was ok for now.

"Yes…the dog." Ciel's lackluster enthusiasm crept to the surface. "How fortunate."

Sebastian, on the other hand, seemed to scrutinize the animal far more closely than Eve cared for. She was having a good deal of difficulty assessing the extent of the demon's knowledge, as well as her success in keeping her own concealed. She had decided for the time being to play the part of a traumatized young girl in order to avoid extensive conversation, hoping not to inadvertently raise any alarms. She was also keenly aware that she was not doing nearly as good a job of it as she would have liked.

Ironically, even though much of the horror from her past had been laid bare before her she found she needed the total lack of those experiences to make her a more convincing victim. The only thing such trials seemed to ultimately do was strengthen her…refine her. She actually needed to _be_ the Karma they knew to pull off that innocence so flawlessly.

She sighed, smiling sweetly at her audience of two and rejoined them at the table.

Ghost padded along next to her, lying at her feet as she sat down.

Ciel silently watched her situate herself in her chair and silently turned his own questions and theories around one at a time, trying to find the best way to approach the matter.

It was obvious to him that Sebastian was ill at ease, but for what reason he was unsure. _*Unless*_ he speculated _*he has some cause to believe Eve might be faking her condition…she does seem different somehow.* _It was nothing Ciel could point to specifically, just a feeling…a change in her overall air. _*Her eyes.* _his discerning mind seemed to be insisting. _*They seem less curious now…less innocent.*_

It suddenly occurred to him that he was staring. Ciel shifted uncomfortably and continued their talk.

"You're sure you don't remember anything? Anything at all?" he pressed as she picked up her cup of hot chocolate and warmed her hands, "Any detail could be important, Karma."

Eve shook her head and looked down at the cup, letting her hair fall around her face shyly. "I'm sorry. I just remember being afraid…afraid and in a bright light. There were voices, but…I don't know what they were saying."

Ciel sighed and resigned himself to temporary defeat.

"Very well." he said, standing. "It's late, and we're all tired. Perhaps we should try again in the morning, once you've had time to think on it some in peace."

He made his way to the door, turning his attention to his butler.

"Sebastian, Mey-Rin is preparing Lady Karma another room for the night. See that this one is taken care of. And you'll need to call a glassmaker in the morning for that window."

"Of course, My Lord."

"You'll be just down the hall from my room, My Lady, until more suitable arrangements can be made." _*and so I can keep an eye on you.*_ he added silently. "I hope it won't be too difficult an adjustment for you. It is on the East wing and the view there is much nicer, at least."

_*He wears the mask of a nobleman well.*_ Eve thought as she realized she was truly seeing him for the first time. When they had met she was merely a shell…a vapid little thing, wide-eyed and full of childlike wonder. He seemed so large then, so grown-up and wise. He seemed smaller now, somehow. He still commanded her respect and gratitude, to be sure. How could he not after all that he's done for her. It was more a sense of her having grown to meet him at his level rather than anything he had lost in particular.

"Thank you, My Lord." Eve responded appropriately. "I'm sorry to be such an inconvenience to you." She was beginning to remember why she hated life in high society…no one ever just said what they meant…how did that Shakespearian line go again?

'All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players.'

Yes…that was indeed the life of the elite.

"Not at all." He replied pleasantly. "I'll leave you to gather your things. Mey-Rin should be around to escort you to your quarters presently."

He bowed his head slightly. "My Lady."

She responded in kind. "My Lord."

"Come along, Sebastian." Ciel said as he headed briskly down the hallway.

"Yes, My Lord" the butler replied, casting Eve one last, skeptical glance before following on his master's heels.

Eve closed her doors and stood still for a moment, listening carefully for any sign that the hallway was not completely vacated. Satisfied, she smiled and turned to Ghost.

"Well aren't you two a sight for sore eyes?" she said.

* * *

Mey-Rin hurried up the grand staircase after depositing the cleaning supplies in the cabinet. The room Lord Phantomhive had chosen had not been in use for quite some time, and she had found it needed a good dusting before it was ready for its new occupant. The mundane activity had given her time to decide what she should do regarding the young man she had encountered earlier. She knew she should tell the Young Master, but she was afraid of losing his trust and quite possibly her job for not coming forward sooner.

Her nerves were already raw from the day's events and the normally anxious young maid was now miserable with worry when a loud knocking threatened to snap her sanity in two. She stopped half way up the stairs and let out a small yelp. The sharp, incessant rapping sounded like the gavel of a Judge to her guilty mind and it took her a moment to realize it was someone at the door.

"Who is the world could be calling at this time of night?" she mumbled as she approached the door warily. She cracked it open and saw a soaking wet young man in a postman's uniform standing in front of her.

"Emergency dispatch for Lord Phantomhive, Miss." He said, shoving an envelope at her.

Mey could just make out the name scrawled on the front in the dim light from her candle.

"Lord Arthur Randall"

* * *

Nate looked around him with thinly veiled distaste.

The entire room was lined with coffins and caskets of every type. Some bore elaborate carvings of their owner's family crests or brass plates engraved with the names of their future occupants while others had yet to be claimed by anyone at all.

He had forgotten how unsettling the Undertaker's propensity to capitalize on his true profession's after-math could be.

"One lump or two?" a sugar cube pinched between the silver arms of a surprisingly delicate set of tongs hovered before him, held between the Undertakers bony fingers. He noted the tongs were nearly as long as the black nails topping off those fingers.

"Eh…" he looked down at his makeshift teacup, a beaker from the mortuary's autopsy room. "Two, please."

*plop* *plop*

"Thank you."

The Undertaker swept away to his desk and added a cube to his own beaker, the steam from his tea swept up alongside the clear glass, fogging it from the inside.

"You really should come stay awhile in Dublin, Boyo. I believe this place might actually be compounding your usual…." He looked up to see the Undertaker dipping his spoon in his tea like a teabag rather than stirring with it. "…eccentricity."

"Nonsense!" Undertaker replied with a dismissive wave of the hand. "Never been better in my life."

"Right, then." Nate said flatly.

"So what's all this I hear about our little Eve?" he changed the subject abruptly, taking on a more casual tone. "The last word I had from her she was on her way to Budapest…something about an ancestral weapon having been discovered in the area?"

"The validity of _that_ claim is yet to be determined, of course," Undertaker added with an air of indifference. "what with all the confusion of late."

"Yes, the amnesia…" Nate said more to himself than to his friend. "and the status there? Has she made any headway in regaining her identity?"

"Hard to say." Undertaker replied, swirling his tea around lazily. "I've not even spoken to her."

"What? Not at all?" Nate asked incredulously.

"And what would I have said to her if I had?" Undertaker challenged, a sharp edge to his voice. His eyes had become incredibly lucid, no sign of the addle-minded old codger remained in them. Nate was taken aback in spite of himself. He had nearly forgotten how easily the crafty mortician could lull you into a false sense of confidence with his ability to feign incompetence.

"I suppose you're right." he conceded.

"When I learned of the little miss and her special circumstances I kept my eyes open and my ears to the ground, of course." he elaborated, never acknowledging Nate. "I knew if she stayed her course it would only be a matter of time before she found her way to London. She would be in need of shelter and food, after all, and London is a major throughway for commerce." Undertaker paused and frowned. "Although she did take longer to get here than I had anticipated."

"Yes, well, it's no wonder really." Nate cut in. "On more than one occasion she's met with foul play," he dropped his voice, furrowing his brow. "I'm rather impressed she's managed to survive this long, actually."

The Undertaker chuckled. "A lost demon hunter pursued by all manner of devilish monsters?" he propped his chin on his folded hands. "Sounds a bit like a badly written penny dreadful, if you ask me."

"And yet here we are, eh?" Nate smiled, "You can imagine my surprise when I received your communique. I know you've helped out in the past, but you've always had your own reasons. I have to admit I am curious as to your involvement this time around." Nate scrutinized the sly fox in front of him as he sipped his tea.

"What a terrible thing to imply." Undertaker sniffed and crossed his arms. "The poor thing was obviously in trouble. What do you take me for? A heartless monster?"

"So you did it out of the goodness of your heart, then?" Nate asked wryly.

"Well I didn't say that." he countered. "I _might_ have a personal interest in her well-being…" Undertaker held up spoon and seemed to study it intently.

"Hmmm…as I thought." Nate said smugly. "I don't suppose you'd like to elaborate, would you?"

The Undertaker grinned and held the spoon to his lips.

Nate wasn't surprised at his friend's silence. Although, they had fought side by side many times over the years, the Undertaker was not one to let his guard down, even to a former comrade. He had learned to simply accept it and move on long ago, or else he was certain it would have driven him insane.

Nate sighed, standing. "Anyway, I must say I'm glad you have this 'personal interest', Boyo…whatever it is." He walked across the room to his trunk sitting just inside the door.

The Undertaker watched him with obvious amusement.

"You've certainly saved me a lot of trouble."

"Naturally I would have preferred to play with you a bit longer," Undertaker said, a note of disappointment in his voice. "you've always proven to be so entertaining, but time is short, after all."

"And why is that, exactly?" Nate said as he unbuckled the heavy straps from around the trunk. "I thought you said the demon was virtually powerless so long as his young master held the reigns."

"Indeed he is," Undertaker agreed, his eyes narrowing sharply. "but it's Veronika you should be worried about."

Nate spun around and glared at his friend, noting the look of satisfaction he wore as his words had their intended effect upon him.

"Veronika?!" he demanded. "Here?"

"You didn't really think she was likely to give up so easily, did you?" Undertaker asked. "Especially now that she has the chance to actually realize her goal?" he leaned forward, pressing Nate to think harder.

Nate scowled. The Undertaker's maddening smirk told him he was missing something. But what? _*Think, dammit!* _

Veronika had gone underground after her last near fatal encounter with Eve. Since then Eve had uncovered Veronika's connection to Karma's death, and though the two of them had benefited from a rather unconventional truce in the past, that all ended once Eve learned the truth. Eve's thirst for vengeance had been what prodded her into searching for a more efficient means of dispatching demons, which ultimately had led to her quest to Budapest and, subsequently, her amnesia. Knowing the danger, it wasn't likely the demoness would resurface anytime soon unless….

Nate looked at the Undertaker as the gravity of situation became all too clear. "She knows." he said. "She must have heard about Eve, about her accident…about her memory!" Nate blinked, trying to process the information. "But how?"

"A demon can be stubbornly persistent when it comes to what they want." the Undertaker shrugged. "How do any of us come by our information? It seems we aren't the only ones with our ears to the ground."

"I have to see Eve immediately!" Nate stated with a new urgency "If Veronika is, as you say, in London then she's in grave danger! We've not a moment to spare!" he turned to the trunk and flipped the lid open, revealing a cache of various sharp and extremely deadly looking weapons.

"Expecting trouble, were you?" the Undertaker laughed as he craned over his counter to peer inside.

"You know," Nate turned to face him irritably, an unwieldy axe in hand, "as much as I appreciate your characteristic cavalier nature, Boyo, now is simply not the time."

"Relax, old friend." the Undertaker replied soothingly. "I understand the girl's not as friendless as you might imagine. A large white dog with mismatched eyes has been spotted with her. Ring any bells?" He smiled.

"Of course," Nate murmured. "Memory or not I should have known they wouldn't leave her side."

"There are others, as well." The Undertaker teased "you aren't the only belle to the ball." he danced in place like a complete loon, clearly pleased with his own wit.

"You don't mean that damn Nephilim, do you?" Nate asked flatly.

"What's that?" Undertaker stood perfectly still, cupping his hand to his ear. "Do I detect a hint of rivalry?"

"Fine, stay here if you like." Nate ignored the accusation. "I'm going to retrieve the girl."

"In that case you're going to need more than a rusty old axe, I dare say." The mortician laughed at him as he began stalking to the door. "That Phantomhive manor is more secure than the Queen's bedchamber."

Nate stopped in his tracks and seethed. He absolutely hated it when the Undertaker was right at his expense.

"And after I went to all the trouble of securing this for you." He continued gleefully. Nate turned his head and saw the Undertaker holding a small, elegant envelope secured with a red wax seal. "Why kick down the back door when you can walk through the front?"

The Undertaker's wicked laughter filled the room and danced through Nate's mind like a soothing balm on a fresh burn.

He smiled. He had truly missed this lunatic.


End file.
